


Reel Love

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: When pop star Skye’s reputation takes a hit, her agent Jemma books her on a reality dating show to remind all her fans why they fell in love with her. But the real romance might just blossom behind the cameras.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A (higher-rated) homage to my all-time favorite made-for-TV romcom _I Want to Marry Ryan Banks!_ (or as the DVD release would have it, _Reality of Love_ ). If you’ve never seen it, it’s _The Bachelor_ meets Cyrano de Bergerac. I’ve thrown in a nod or two to _UnREAL_ too.

Struggling to balance the cup tray in her hand, as well as the bag of food and morning newspaper, Jemma pulled the door open just far enough to sneak her foot into the gap. Rather gracelessly, she then nudge-kicked it open, barely avoiding spilling the hot beverages as she hopped out of the way.

“Daisy?” she called out.

The answering grunt did not resemble any English words, but they communicated Daisy’s state clearly. That state was face-down on the couch, hungover. Jemma rolled her eyes. Walking over, she set the cup tray on the coffee table, then leaned over and shook Daisy’s hip.

“Come on, up, we have work to do.”

With a sigh and a yawn, Daisy rose, scooching over to make space for Jemma. 

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to go out last night,” Jemma observed pointedly. 

“I know,” Daisy acknowledged. To her credit, she actually sounded apologetic. She added, by way of explanation, “Miles.”

“I thought we also agreed you weren’t going to see Miles anymore.”

“Definitely not after last night,” Daisy stated. “I dumped him.”

“Was that before or after he hacked into the county alert text messaging system and sent everyone in the immediate region photographs of your breasts?”

There was a long pause. “What?” Daisy finally asked.

With a sigh, Jemma unfolded the newspaper and opened it to the entertainment gossip page. 

“Oh my God, that _dick_ ,” Daisy said, leaning forward to pick it up. 

“I suppose we should be grateful it’s only the top half. And as usual, the oh-so-feminist blogs and media are putting the blame on you. The Disney Channel’s already called to back out of that TV special.”

“But – come on!”

“Daisy, like it or not, your biggest fans are impressionable tween girls. You are supposed to be a _role model_. And role models don’t send nude pics to their white-collar-criminal boyfriends.”

“Ugh, so unfair,” Daisy whined, dropping her head back against the couch.

Jemma shrugged, agreeing but ultimately helpless.

“What about – ?”

“The almost-signed modeling contract? They aren’t answering my calls.”

Daisy was silent. Jemma braced herself for the next bit of bad news. 

“The only people who seem interested in talking to me are the producers of _Reel Love_.”

Daisy turned her head and opened one eye to glare at Jemma. “Celebrity reality shows are for washed-up has-beens.”

“That show is top-rated. You’ll be in everyone’s home for months.”

“How is making out with 15 different guys going to help my image problem?” Daisy asked, flicking her hand out to gesture at the newspaper. 

Jemma sighed. “Those little girls want to see you fall in love with Prince Charming. And all the sponsors and everyone else will remember why they fell in love with you in the first place too.”

After a long pause, Daisy gave in. Sort of. “I am not getting married to some rando.”

Jemma tilted her head, fixing Daisy with an eloquent look. “No one actually ends up marrying the winner,” she reassured her friend.

**

“Hey, hon,” Mack answered his phone, even as he directed his attention at Fitz across the garage. “Hey, can you turn that down?”

“It’s Skye!” Fitz responded, as if that was somehow a strong argument for why his iPod was at a ridiculous volume. 

“I’m trying to talk to Elena. And you’re not a 13-year-old girl.”

“She writes her own lyrics, you know,” Fitz said, even as he adjusted the volume. “And she does a lot of charity work with foster kids. She’s actually a really good – ”

“Whatever, Turbo,” Mack cut him off. He focused on his phone call again. “What’s going on?”

“I just talked to Aida,” Elena began. 

Mack groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “And?”

“He told her to her face that he didn’t plan on asking her out again.”

“No wonder he didn’t answer any of my questions about the date.”

They exchanged a few more annoyed mutters, and then Mack hung up again. He looked over at Fitz. Granted, his friend reminded him many times that he was perfectly happy with his single status, but – was it so wrong to want him to get out there? To want him to find love? To want him to do _something_ with his life besides tinker with his inventions? 

“So, things didn’t go well last night, huh?” he asked. 

Even from across the room, he could see how Fitz stiffened. He turned away to focus on the car he was fixing. 

“What was wrong with her?”

“Nothin’.”

“Then – ”

“She – I – there – was no click.”

“When will you give someone a chance?”

Fitz faced him then, wiping his hands off on a towel. After a moment, he shrugged. “I don’t know. When I meet someone who understands me, I guess. Who takes my breath away.”

“Hmm,” was Mack’s only reply. 

Later that night, when he and Elena were cuddled up on the couch watching the trashy reality show she loved and he pretended to hate, an ad came on for auditions for the next season’s batch of Average Joes to fall in love with a celebrity. Not just any celebrity, either.

“Hmm,” Mack said.

**

“Ready to watch the first batch of Average Joe submission tapes?”

“I thought I don’t know anything about them until they show up at the mansion.”

“Oh no. Come on, Daisy. You should know better than that. We get veto power, and we might even identify now the guys who will be edited well enough to ensure they make it to the final round.”

“That’s some small comfort, I guess.”

Jemma hummed in agreement, even as she placed the computer on the table in front of them. She signed in quickly and opened the folder containing numerous submission videos. 

The first one was quite attractive. Even Jemma raised her eyebrows in interest. Just the right level of cockiness ( _come on, girl, you know you want to meet me_ ) and genuine good-guy-ness. 

“I like him,” Daisy voted. 

“Hmm,” Jemma agreed. “Maybe not the winner, but definitely a strong contender.”

A doctor. An astronaut. A rough-around-the-edges guy with a British accent that will make girls swoon. Their list of potential candidates, all ranked according to who would make the best TV for which target audiences, grew. 

Jemma pressed play on the last one. 

“Huh?” Daisy asked.

She shared Daisy’s confusion at the image of an apparent _couple_ standing in front of the camera, their arms around each other. 

“Uh, hello,” the very large man began. “We know what you’re thinking.”

“Threesome!” the woman interjected.

Both Daisy and Jemma laughed. 

“But no – ” “Although we wouldn’t say no, if you’re into that kind of thing!” “We’re actually making this tape without our friend’s knowledge.”

The image changed suddenly, showing instead a garage. From behind several boxes, the camera recorded a young man leaning over a car engine. 

“This is Fitz,” the first man whispered. “He’s worked for me for the last five years. Absolutely brilliant with technology, always inventing little gizmos and gadgets. He was going to get a degree in Engineering, but had to drop out when his mom got sick. She died last year and ever since, he’s been – well, kind of hesitant to get on with his life.”

The image switched again. The woman was back on-screen and she talked as if she were sitting in the room with Daisy and Jemma.

“Let’s girl-talk, Skye. He’s cute, he’s smart, he’s funny, he’s respectful. He just needs to break out of his shell, and we think you’d be perfect for him! He’s a big fan too, but not, like, in a creepy way. Trust me – you won’t regret picking him for the show.”

The tape stopped. Both Daisy and Jemma were silent for a moment. 

“I like him,” Jemma said, feeling strangely self-conscious about it, even though she had given similar assessments to many of the candidates. 

“We already have a mechanic taking care of a family member.”

Jemma shrugged. “So, we find a different angle to play.”

“He’s cute, but is he hot?”

 _Yes_ , Jemma thought but knew better than to say. “These are supposed to be Average Joes.”

She knew it was a weak argument. _Reel Love_ , like any other TV show, peddled sex. Compared to some of the 6-foot near-models they’d already chosen, this Fitz seemed like an unusual choice. But there was something about him…

“You’re the boss,” Daisy said.

**

Fitz stared at the unfamiliar number on his mobile screen for a moment, then shrugged. Pressing the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear.

“’Lo?”

“Good afternoon, is this Leo Fitz?”

He tried not to sigh. He was the one who answered the phone, so he couldn’t be upset at the telemarketer. He’d just hang up as soon as possible.

“Yes.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Fitz! I’m calling to let you know you’ve been selected as one of the suitors for the next season of _Reel Love_!”

What.

“Huh?”

“We’ve already mailed out a contract with the finer details, and we would like to invite you out for an interview with the producers so we can learn more about you than the audition video allowed.

_Audition video?_

“I think you have – ”

“And please be sure to complete the medical exam and have your doctor sign a clean bill of health. Lots of people in the mansion, after all.”

Fitz was absolutely speechless, but he managed to make some kind of pathetically clueless sound. The person on the other end of the phone didn’t even seem to notice. After a few more instructions that Fitz barely heard, the person hung up. 

Fitz stared at his phone for a brief second, his scowl growing by the second.

“ _Mack!_ ” he shouted. 

Despite his numerous objections, which he laid out to Elena and Mack in an expletive-filled rant, Fitz found himself in a nondescript conference room a week later. There was a camera set up and pointed at him, which made him feel very awkward. He’d never forgive Mack for this.

**

Jemma flipped through the file of the next contestant, fighting the strange flustered feeling that arose whenever he came up. It was silly. There was absolutely no reason to be nervous. They’d done several of these already. Jemma would begin with some friendly conversation to open him up, then some standard questions about his dating history, and then Daisy – watching via the video camera – would chime in with her own questions through the earpiece barely visible in Jemma’s ear. She paused just outside the door to the conference room to prepare herself.

“Testing,” she whispered.

 _Loud and clear_ , came Daisy’s response. _Let’s go meet Bachelor Number 8._

Jemma went inside. “Mr. Fitz?”

The man – clearly recognizable from the audition video – twisted to look over his shoulder at her, then hopped to his feet. As Jemma introduced herself, she couldn’t help but notice how his gaze dropped and then bounced back up, in a subtle but clear checking-her-out kind of move. It was somewhat gratifying, since six of the seven previous ones had just been disappointed that they didn’t get to meet Skye, and the seventh was _too_ flirtatious, as if he thought that was the best way to get favor among Jemma and the other producers. 

She gestured at the chair, and he sat again. Walking around the table, Jemma took her own place just within the range of the camera’s lens. She smiled at him, then began with a question about a detail that was basic but intrigued her anyway. 

“I see that you’re from Glasgow?” 

His eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise as her accent became clear, and he grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, born and raised.”

“What brought you to the States?”

“Ah, school at first. Later, medical treatment for my mum. And now…inertia, I guess.”

Jemma nodded in understanding. Life could get away from you sometimes, and all of a sudden, years had passed and you’d almost forgotten some of your own hopes and plans amid all the other things that happened around and to you. She looked down at her sheet, focusing on the questions to ignore the little pang of regret she’d had at the thought. 

“What did you go to school for?” she asked, continuing to ease him into the conversation. 

“Um, engineering.”

“But you dropped out to take care of your mum?”

“How did you – yeah. Yeah, she had cancer. It was just me and her so…”

“I’m sorry,” Jemma said sincerely, not too convinced by his shrug in reply. 

“Have you thought about going back to school?”

Jemma watched Leo as he considered his answer. “I don’t really know. I like my job now, and I have time to work on my own projects, so I’m not sure. Maybe someday.”

“Do you have time to date?” 

She hid her smile as he fought a bright red blush. Scratching at his earlobe, he hesitated a moment. 

_This guy is such a puppy dog_ , Daisy’s voice sounded in her ear. _Are you sure we want him as one of the finalists?_

“Not all that much,” he confessed, competing with Daisy for Jemma’s attention. “Mack and Elena, who sent in the video, are always trying to introduce me to women but – ”

_Ask him about his last girlfriend._

“Tell me about your last girlfriend, Leo,” Jemma obliged, only because it was one of the questions they had asked all the contestants.

The face he made that time wasn’t embarrassed so much as a full cringe of disgust. “Just Fitz, please.”

Jemma made a note of it on her sheet, wondering if she should ask about it. There might be a story there that would be good to bring out when they really needed the audience to get to know him. But she had to get the answer to the current question first. She nodded to indicate he should continue. 

“I don’t…really have an _ex_ , I guess. I’ve dated, but nothing serious or long-term.”

She wondered if that had to do with his mum, or his obvious social awkwardness, or just bad luck, or if it were a red flag and – 

_Ask him how long it’s been since he slept with someone_ , Daisy said.

“What? No!”

Jemma tried not to face-palm when she realized she said that out loud. Fitz stared back at her, confused. 

“No…what?” he asked.

 _Come on, Simmons. If I have to seduce this guy, I need to know what I’m dealing with here. Does he have blue balls? Is he afraid of women? Is he closeted? Is he a_ virgin _? What?_

“Are you a virgin?” Jemma blurted in an attempt to get Daisy to stop talking. Her stomach sunk immediately, but she didn’t know if it was out of sheer humiliation or out of the odd queasy feeling she had when Daisy was talking about seducing him. 

Fitz stared at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing in speechlessness. Finally, he shook his head once and stood. He fumbled with the microphone clipped to his shirt, and couldn’t seem to make eye contact with Jemma.

“Sorry,” he finally managed to say. “Sorry, I just don’t think this is for me.”

Before Jemma could respond, he had walked across to the door, flung it open and exited into the hallway. Jemma scrambled to stand up and chase after him, pausing only long enough to stare into the video camera she knew was connected to Daisy’s feed.

“Really?!”

Jemma hurried out of the room. He was already several feet down the hall, nearly to the corner that would take him to the lift. 

“Mr. Fitz!” she called out, despite having no idea what she could say to make things right. 

But it was suddenly out of her hands. Jemma watched, somewhat startled, as Daisy turned the corner coming from the other direction, and not-accidentally-at-all ran into Fitz. She dropped the sheets of paper she was holding in an obvious move to force him to stop and help her.

“I am so sorry,” Jemma heard Fitz say, as she walked closer to their little group.

“No, no, my fault,” Daisy replied, casually tangling their fingers together when she reached out for the exact paper he was currently grabbing. 

Fitz’s head darted up, as he finally seemed to realize who he was only inches away from. Jemma couldn’t stop the slightly-pained smile at his reaction. 

“Skye,” he breathed out. 

“The one and only,” Daisy confirmed, holding out her hand for him to shake it. “And you are?”

“F – Fitz.”

“Nice to meet you, Fi – ” Daisy exaggeratedly looked back and forth between him and Jemma. She began to stand, refusing to release his hand so he had to rise up with her. 

“You’re not here for the show, are you?”

Fitz simply nodded. Jemma tried not to roll her eyes.

“Oh my,” Daisy continued. “I’m not supposed to meet any of you before the show starts. But you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Fitz quickly shook his head, still apparently speechless. Daisy grinned widely. 

“Good, because I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better.”

She gave him one more flirtatious glance, dropped his hand and continued walking. As she passed Jemma, she winked in triumph. Jemma tried not to react noticeably, which was made even harder when she saw Fitz turn around to watch Daisy walk away. 

“Would you like to finish the interview?” Jemma asked, her voice sounding tight for some reason.

“Huh?” he asked, not even looking at Jemma.

“The interview,” she repeated pointedly. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” was his only reply. He stepped around Jemma, heading back towards the room they had just left. 

Jemma followed, suppressing an inexplicable scowl about his change of heart and the obvious impetus for it. It was what they wanted after all – dozens of men competing for Daisy.


	2. Chapter 2

The night before he was supposed to leave to film the show, Fitz had dinner with Mack and Elena. He supposed it was a good thing they were the ones who forced him into it, since they were obligated to give him his job back at the end of it. Of course, he probably wouldn’t make it to the second week of the show, anyway. He knew the kinds of guys usually cast in series like that, and Skye wouldn’t look twice at him. 

But he was ready to go, at any rate. His flight was booked, and a car would pick him up at the airport and bring him to the mansion where he’d spend the next several days, at least, trying to pick up a girl. On television. 

Fitz was going to be sick.

He was still feeling nervous when he got home, and the message with instructions for his arrival from Jemma Simmons – the one who, horrifyingly, thought he was a virgin – didn’t help. He had spent the week after the interview imagining all the ways he could have answered her questions better. More confidently. Sexier. In a way that was both memorable and clearly showed why he was the kind of guy any girl would choose. 

But it was supposedly a _reality_ show, not fiction.

Fitz climbed into bed, still worrying about the immediate future. When he woke up at the crack of dawn to catch his flight, he texted Mack truthfully that he had nightmares all night long. But he didn’t admit, not even later when Mack drove him to the airport, that the dream woman he repeatedly humiliated himself in front of, who rejected him in favor of some big, strong, handsome bloke, who laughed in his face when he asked her out, looked far more like Jemma Simmons than Skye. 

His terrible predictions started coming true as soon as he shared the car ride to the mansion with one of the other contestants, an Adonis named Grant Ward who condescendingly remarked on Fitz’s name and then rightfully decided Fitz wasn’t worth his time.

**

Taking a moment to herself, Jemma breathed in the scent wafting from her tea. Filming would begin soon, starting with scenes of Skye meeting all the Average Joes. The lights and cameras were ready. Hair and make-up were touching up the contestants. Everything was going smoothly, and she could just relax for a minute or two.

“If this backfires, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Jemma sighed, then opened her eyes to look at Daisy. “It won’t; trust me. Everything will go according to plan, and you’ll be back in everyone’s good graces again. In the meantime, enjoy being romanced by 15 hot guys.”

“The only thing unusual about that is it will be filmed,” Daisy teased, winking. 

Of course, it wasn’t entirely a joke. Men always wanted Daisy. Jemma glanced at her again, taking in the form-fitting ballgown with a low neckline and a high slit in the leg. Sexy but still classy. It was no surprise she was always the belle of the ball. 

Jemma looked down at her own outfit. Professional. Conservative. A bit wrinkled after the long day of running around dealing with small crises. It was also no surprise that, sometimes, men didn’t even notice her next to Daisy.

She forced a smile and made eye contact again. “Everything will go according to plan,” she repeated.

**

Fitz felt his knees wobbling, and he feared he might actually pass out. The only thing stopping him, actually, was the camera that was also to blame for his nerves. The last thing he needed was the entire country seeing him faint.

“You doing OK?”

He twitched in surprise at the whispered voice. With a surreptitious look, he glanced at the guy next to him.

“Yeah, fine,” he said a little too quickly.

“You don’t seem like it.”

“What are you, a mind-reader?” Fitz snapped in a harsh whisper. Almost immediately, he shook his head in apology. “Sorry,” he added.

“Don’t worry about it. Just breathe.”

Before Fitz could respond, the producer-slash-director – a rather terrifying woman named May – called out for a _Ben_ to come down the stairs to greet Skye waiting at the foot with the other contestants who had already been introduced. The guy next to him, apparently named Ben, angled past him as he began to descend the stairs. He was followed by two more Average Joes, and then Fitz himself was called. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and carefully made his way to the ground floor. 

Skye looked beautiful, making Fitz feel rather self-conscious in comparison. His suit was well-tailored, but he knew that he – Skye held out her hand, and Fitz took it, almost mindlessly.

“Hello, Fitz,” Skye said, her tone of voice suggesting an inside joke. “So nice to meet you.”

Fitz smiled in response, playing along. They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then separated. Fitz stepped aside, taking his place with the other contestants. He stared ahead, out towards the cameras off-set. Suddenly, he spotted Jemma standing just off to the side. She was paying close attention to the proceedings, and Fitz could see – or perhaps he just imagined – a little furrow of concentration in her brow. 

And then they were making eye contact. Fitz fought a smile when Jemma nearly jumped in surprise. She pressed her lips together, maybe blushing a bit as she pointed her finger at Skye in a mock-scolding sort of way. Fitz raised his eyebrows, making a show of it as he deliberately turned to focus on Skye. He couldn’t see her response, of course, but he hoped it made her laugh and helped her relax a bit. 

“Well, Skye,” the host, Phil, cut in, “what do you think?” 

Skye turned her back to the candidates and faced the camera. She adopted a rather sexy stance. It was only because of the five takes of his arrival at the mansion and three or four takes of several of the other introductions, that he knew how much work actually went into nailing the seemingly effortless perfect pose. 

“I think I’m one lucky girl,” Skye said with an audible wink. 

Fitz nearly lost his balance when Ward nudged him out of the way so he could be more clearly in the shot. Fitz sighed.

**

“Hey, Fitz, right?”

Fitz had barely closed the bedroom door before his roommate greeted him. He supposed even for a mansion, 16 bedrooms plus rooms for the filming equipment would have been a stretch, but he hadn’t shared a room since his one and only semester in college, and he wasn’t really looking forward to it. He supposed it was better than the trailers outside where the crew stayed. 

“Yeah,” he finally responded.

“I’m Hunter. Lance. Nice to meet you, mate.”

“You’re from England?” Fitz asked with some surprise. He hadn’t heard much of the details of the other candidates during filming, but he seemed to recall… “And an actor, right?”

Hunter looked up from where he was unpacking his suitcase, then nodded. “Trying to be, anyway.”

“Maybe this show will be your big break,” Fitz suggested supportively.

Hunter hesitated, then looked pointedly at the camera in the ceiling. With a tilt of his head, he led Fitz into the loo.

“They can’t put cameras or mics in here,” he explained. “Privacy.”

“Oh,” Fitz replied, vaguely remembering reading about that in the contract. Although, he supposed, if push came to shove, there were always things he could do with the camera in the room, too.

“But anyway, yeah. That’s why I’m here. To get some exposure. I wanted to tell you because you’ll hear me in here – ” He reached back and pulled a cellphone from…Fitz didn’t want to know where, then continued, “ – talking to my girlfriend and my agent. We’re not supposed to have phones, but you can use this whenever you want.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, we gotta team up, right? That’s how you win these things – alliances.”

“What are you going to do if you win?”

Hunter shrugged. “Pretend to date Skye for a while, get famous, then dump her.”

“Your girlfriend would be OK with that?”

“Bob?” Hunter asked, laughing. “Her idea.”

**

Jemma hadn’t had a break in about ten hours, but finally, just then, she had a moment to breathe. Daisy was napping so couldn’t get into trouble, and filming had finished for the day. So, Jemma found the nearest place to sit in peace and quiet – an overstuffed recliner in the library that she was pretty sure none of the pretty dumb guys even knew existed – and collapsed into it with a sigh.

“Hi,” came an unexpected voice.

Jemma jumped about a foot in the air. One hand flew to her racing heart as she looked at Fitz in a chair a few feet away. The warm glow of the floor lamp behind the chair made some parts of his face soft and welcoming and cast other parts into shadow. She could just barely see a hint of a smile. 

“Sorry,” he added. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jemma shook her head to dismiss the apology. She thought about leaving and finding some place more private to relax in, but she found herself wanting to stay.

“How has the first week gone, do you think?” she asked. 

Fitz shrugged and sucked one cheek inside of his mouth as he thought. “I think I’m most surprised about all the retakes. I didn’t think we’d film things over and over again.”

Jemma smiled, nodding. “Takes away some of the mystique, doesn’t it?”

“It’s just – ” Fitz closed his book and set it on the table next to him. “It’s not a very easy way to get to know someone, is it? I can’t imagine actually falling in love here.”

Jemma nodded in understanding, not really sure what to say. After a moment, she just changed the subject. “What are you reading?”

“Ah,” he stalled, seeming embarrassed. Then he picked it up and showed her the cover, which Jemma immediately recognized. “It’s a biography of Zhores Alfrov, who was – ”

“The father of hetrostructure transistors! I’ve had that book on my nightstand for ages, but haven’t had a chance to start it. How is it?”

“Really good,” Fitz said, obviously surprised and intrigued by her response. “You should definitely find the time.”

“Ugh, I wish,” Jemma groaned. “I’ve always been interested in science and have about six books buried underneath various contracts and song lyrics.”

“Not a lot of table space for your boyfriend’s stuff then.”

Jemma was thankful for the dark room which hid her immediate blush. If she didn’t know better, the statement and the rushed, awkward way he said it would have been clear fishing. But he was there for Daisy, so she did know better. She had any number of experiences where she’d been flirting with some guy who completely forgot about her when Daisy showed up. And those guys _hadn’t_ signed up to compete for Daisy on national television. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she finally replied, unable to make eye contact.

“There must be a very good reason you’re single,” Fitz observed, making Jemma feel even more pointless butterflies.

“I could say the same about you,” she practically whispered. 

Before he could respond further, she jumped to her feet. She didn’t even wait for him as he quickly tried to stand himself, before she bade him goodnight and rushed from the room.

**

Two evenings later, Jemma stood next to Phil and May, watching the various feeds to see if anything interesting was happening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone enter the kitchen. She couldn’t tell who, though, due to the ball cap pulled low over his eyes.

“Who is that?” she asked, pointing at the monitor. “Is that…Deke?”

“I can’t tell,” Phil murmured, leaning forward to peer at the screen. “Maybe?”

“Is he allowed to cover his face like that? Isn’t there a rule?”

“There is now,” May declared. “Jemma, go down there and get him to take it off. Then stall him until we can get Skye there. This could be a great little scene.”

Jemma nodded in agreement, leaving the room quickly and rushing downstairs. When she arrived in the kitchen, she noticed the contestant had pulled out the makings of a sandwich. The man himself was bent over, half-hidden by the open door as he rummaged inside the fridge.

“Hi,” she greeted him.

“Oh!” He closed the door, and Jemma realized it was Fitz, not Deke. She supposed it was an easy mistake to make; there was some resemblance between them. “Hi, Jemma,” he replied.

“Hungry?”

He nodded, gesturing somewhat awkwardly with the jar of mayo in his hands. She shook her head, walking over to the fridge and reaching inside, far in the back, for the tub she had stashed there for her own snack runs.

“Here, use this instead.”

He looked at it for a moment, shrugged, then traded the mayo for the aioli.

“So,” she said, once she joined him over by the table, “the real reason I came down here was to tell you you can’t wear your hat like that.”

He tilted his head back, looking up at the brim, then took the hat off and tossed it on the table. He faced Jemma with an apologetic expression and matted-down hair that made her smile.

“I didn’t want anyone to know I was going to stuff the entire contents of this fridge into my face,” he joked.

Jemma laughed. “Still, you have to participate. That means being on camera.”

“I understand. Sorry.”

Jemma shook her head. “So – ” she began, only to be cut off by commotion in the hall.

Daisy entered, followed by a camera crew. Next to Jemma, Fitz stiffened with palpable nerves. He cleared his throat, looking down at the table as he clumsily put the finishing touches on the sandwich.

“I’ll…let you two talk,” Jemma said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. 

Fitz glanced at her sharply, as if he didn’t want her to leave. Probably nervous about being alone-ish with Daisy. Then he nodded somewhat jerkily and held out the plate with the sandwich.

“Here, take this. You must be hungry.”

“That’s yours!”

“I’ll make another one,” he argued. 

Jemma hesitated, then nodded. She reached out and took the plate, feeling a funny kind of spark when their fingers brushed against each other. Then, she turned away, finding it hard to look Daisy in the eye. As she left, she heard Daisy greet Fitz with exuberance, and Fitz’s warm, quiet tones in response. The two of them seemed so different, if Jemma were honest, but opposites attract, after all.

**

The conversation, however, when she heard more of it upstairs in the control room, was rather stilted. Fitz was apparently answering questions about his work, talking about cars that he had fixed up, and Daisy’s eyes looked kind of glazed over.

“I only know how to drive a car,” she finally confessed. “And even then, I usually just get rides from a service.”

Fitz nodded, his half-smile indicating he didn’t really know how to respond. Instead, he just took a large bite out of the second sandwich he had finished making.

“Oh my God, that’s so good,” he enthused, mouth still full. 

“Is that Jemma’s homemade pesto aioli?” Skye wondered, reaching out to tilt the container towards her. “It is good.”

“She _made_ this?”

Jemma ducked her head to hide her smile. She tried a tentative bite of her own sandwich. It was good. She would never have thought of mixing together prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella. 

“Do you…like to cook?” Skye-on-the-screen asked

Next to Jemma, May groaned and turned away from the monitor. 

“Why is she so bad with him? Every other guy she has eating out of the palm of her hand; this one’s eating a sandwich.”

Jemma snorted. “She doesn’t know how to handle guys who are authentic. Never has been able to.”

**

Jemma entered Daisy’s room bright and early the morning after the party celebrating the premiere of the show. Daisy groaned, rolling to the side and pushing up her sleep mask. They were going to start filming her observations of the Average Joes any minute, so it was a good thing Jemma was followed by hair and make-up. Jemma handed her a cup of coffee and got a grateful look in return. Daisy stood, walking into the bathroom with the people who would beautify her.

She took a seat, serving as an impromptu stand-in for Daisy for the camera crew setting up. Taking a sip of her tea, she spent the next several minutes looking over the questions they were going to put to Daisy.

“Reviews and ratings are in,” May announced, entering the room with Phil. “Through the roof.”

Jemma smiled widely. She had had no doubt, but it was still gratifying. 

“Everyone loves Skye,” Phil added.

“Of course they do,” the woman herself observed as she walked out of the loo. She struck a dramatic pose against the doorframe, then continued walking to the chair Jemma vacated. 

Jemma took a moment to appreciate her friend, albeit with some jealousy. How she could turn into Skye in just a few minutes was as much of a testament to her own natural beauty and charm as it was to the skill of the crew that had made her up.

“Ready?” Jemma asked, handing the questions to Phil.

“Let’s get the show on the road.”

“What do you think of James?” Phil asked.

“Which one’s James?

May sighed. 

“The Aussie pyro,” Jemma whispered.

“Oh, right, him. He’s a little much, even for me.”

“And Grant?”

“Mmm,” Daisy responded, nodding in approval. “Come to Mama.”

“No!” Jemma exclaimed.

Daisy held her hands out to the side. “Why not?” 

“Because,” May reminded her, “the whole point is to rehab your image. That means ignoring the beefcake. Especially the ones who did a stint in juvie.”

“Then why’d you even bring him on the show?!”

“So America can see you choose substance over looks,” Jemma explained. 

May nodded, looking down at her notes again. “The audience loves Fitz. Of course, at this point, that’s 90% accent, but still.”

Jemma felt vaguely sick to her stomach, but nodded anyway. “He’s the one,” she observed.

“Which means you have to get better at talking to him,” Phil chimed in.

Daisy sighed. “Jemma is so much better with guys like that. Too bad you can’t woo him for me.”

There was a moment of silence, and then everyone turned to face Jemma, with varying degrees of excitement growing on their faces. She tried not to groan, once she realized their plan.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s back!”

At Elena’s shout, Mack dropped the dish he was watching into the sudsy water and hurried from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped onto the couch, reaching out to grip Elena’s hand for good luck, just as the host, Phil, explained that several contestants would be cut, and the rest would receive a literal key to Skye’s heart, keeping them safe until the next week.

“It’s so cheesy,” Elena commented. “I love it.”

Mack hushed her. 

With each key handed out, in reverse order of the number of votes they received (Mack may have submitted ten or eleven votes himself…), he started to feel more and more anxious. He loved Fitz and knew what a catch he was, but he had no faith in the viewing public. Would they really prefer him to someone like Will the astronaut or Lincoln the doctor?

He voiced those concerns aloud, and received a scoff from Elena. “She has no sparks with Lincoln, and I wouldn’t date Will if he were the last guy on the planet.”

In the end, Elena was right – Lincoln and Will were cut, along with James, Ben and Robbie. And it was Fitz who received the very last key.

Mack grinned at Elena. “He’s the one to beat.”

**

With some prompting from the producers, Daisy followed Fitz out of the Key Room, as they’d taken to calling it. She caught up with him on the stairs leading towards the bedrooms.

“Hey,” she called out. 

Fitz turned to face her and Jemma, watching from the control room, audibly gasped. The light from the chandelier caught him just right. It would be an amazing shot. The camera then zoomed back a little, getting Daisy into frame as she walked up, stopping strategically one or two steps below him. It gave the illusion that Fitz was much taller than he actually was. Not that his slight stature bothered Jemma, of course, but America could be shallow. 

“Congrats,” Daisy said, recapturing Jemma’s attention. “The viewers must have seen what I do.”

“What’s that?” Fitz asked, with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Just that you’re…you’re…”

Jemma felt the eyes of other crew members on her and she jolted into action. Picking up the headset that would connect to Daisy’s earpiece, she began to speak.

“Special, unique, different from the Hollywood type,” she suggested.

“Not what I expected. I’m so used to typical Hollywood guys, and you’re different,” Daisy said on-screen.

“Now, tell him you’re happy he was chosen.”

“I’m glad you’re staying on the show.” Jemma smiled as she watched Fitz duck his head with embarrassment. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Brush your hand lightly down his arm as you apologize for cornering him with the cameras.”

Daisy did so, and a part of Jemma imagined she also felt the warmth of his body and the hidden strength of his biceps. Her fingers twitched and she curled them into a fist. 

“It’s OK,” Fitz said, rather breathlessly. 

“Leave anyway,” she told Daisy. 

With one more goodnight, Daisy turned away and walked down the stairs. The main cameras followed her, but Jemma focused on the one that lingered on Fitz’s face. She sighed wistfully, wondering what it would feel like to have a guy like him look at _her_ that way.

**

Daisy soaked in the hot tub, surrounded by and flirting with four of the contestants at once. She sipped her margarita and leaned forward slightly to show her cleavage off better. It still made her laugh (and rage) that the way to make up for her boobs getting shared without her consent was to flash them at every opportunity on national television, but whatever. There were worse ways to spend a few months.

“Need a refill, Skye?”

She glanced over her shoulder to watch Grant saunter up with the pitcher. She looked him up and down, licking her lips. She wanted a taste of more than one tall, cool drink, that was for sure. 

_Fitz just walked out._ Daisy jumped, nearly spilling what was left of her drink down her front. 

She hesitated for a moment, shooting one last glance at Grant.

_Daisy._

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered under her breath. Louder, she added, “Actually, I better get out of here before I wrinkle up like a prune!”

She laughed off the complaints of the guys in the tub. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grant scowl at the way she brushed him off. She grabbed the lightweight robe that didn’t cover up much at all and pulled it on, the fabric clinging to her wet skin. Then she headed over to the table where Fitz had just sat, already bending over a newspaper with a pen in hand. 

Honestly, she liked the guy well enough, but she _did_ need to spend time with all the Average Joes. Otherwise, the editors wouldn’t have enough to piece together. 

“Five letters,” she heard him say to Lance. “Space blank.”

Lance shrugged in response.

“Hello, boys,” Daisy said, sing-song.

Lance turned to her, a grin already forming, but Fitz just glanced up and then back at his crossword puzzle (honestly, the nerd thing was adorable only to a certain extent). 

“Skye, what about you? Space blank, five letters.”

“You are asking the wrong woman,” she replied.

_Oh, cadet! Space cadet_ , Jemma suggested. 

They were both total nerds. Daisy dutifully repeated, “Wait, what about cadet?”

Fitz looked at the newspaper, his brow furrowing. Then he nodded, writing it in. “That’s it. You’re brilliant, Skye!”

_Ask him to go for a walk._

“Now that that’s done, you want to walk in the garden a bit with me?”

He looked at her with alarm before nodding. He stood, placing the pen and a coaster on the paper to prevent it from blowing away. Lance swiveled in his seat, facing them as they walked away.

“What about me, doll?” he asked, arms outstretched.

“Wait your turn,” Daisy teased, winking over her shoulder at him. 

When they hit the garden path, Daisy looped her arm through Fitz’s. He glanced at her and smiled, but seemed hesitant and bashful about starting the conversation. Daisy was in no better of a position, and she cleared her throat pointedly. 

_Ask him if he misses home._

“Hard to believe we’ve been here a few weeks already,” Daisy obeyed. “Feeling homesick yet?”

Fitz smiled, looking down at his feet as they walked. “I miss my friends, but I’m having more fun here than I thought I would.”

“Glad to hear it.” 

_The friends_ , Jemma prompted.

“Your friends, they’re the ones who submitted your audition tape?”

He laughed. “Yeah, Mack and Elena. I started working for Mack when I first came to the States. They basically adopted me, especially after my mum passed.”

_Say you’d like to meet them._

“They sound wonderful. I would love to forget about all this some weekend and go meet them.”

Fitz beamed at her, then suddenly switched to an apologetic but curious expression. “Of course, you know about that sort of thing, growing up with foster parents.”

Don’t _give him the sob story_ , Jemma warned. _Keep the focus on him._

Daisy closed her mouth for a second, regrouping from her initial inclination to complain about the horrors of growing up in the system. She licked her lips. “Yes,” she finally said, “but I’ve been very lucky too. But let’s not talk about me. I want to learn about you.”

Fitz stopped walking, turning to face Daisy. “What do you want to know?”

His expression was open, guileless, and all sorts of things that Daisy didn’t know how to respond to, especially when she was trying to ignore darker memories. She fell back on what she felt comfortable with – teasing, flirting, innuendo. 

“I want to know everything,” she said, dropping her voice low and husky. “Starting with how your lips taste.”

She leaned closer, pressing her lips to Fitz’s. He froze, not returning the kiss or deepening it. Daisy sensed the camera crew crowding closer, zooming in on them from all angles. She ignored Jemma shouting in her ear to stop. 

Soon, Fitz broke the kiss, stepping away from her. He scratched behind his ear, looking everywhere except at her.

“Sorry,” he said, “I just – I think – I think we should head back.”

He walked away, heading towards the house again. He didn’t look back or wait for Daisy.

_What the hell, Daisy?! I didn’t say to kiss him!_

“It felt right,” she gritted out in response, directing her voice toward the microphone. Honestly, Jemma seemed to be overreacting a bit.

_It was far too soon! Not at all the right time! Ugh!_

**

“How’s it going?”

“Hard to say,” Fitz responded quietly. He was irrationally afraid the bedroom camera could pick up his conversation, so he was even perched on the rim of the tub because it was farther from the door than the toilet. “Sometimes, I really seem to connect with her, and other times, she doesn’t even seem like the same person.”

“Any romance building?” Mack asked, his voice sounding distant due to the speakerphone setting. 

Fitz paused, a little hesitant with embarrassment, then confessed. “We kissed today. Well, she kissed me."

Fitz smiled as he heard Elena _whoop whoop_ in celebration on the other end of the line. He appreciated the support, even if it was…

“Is she as good of a kisser as she looks?” Mack asked.

Elena stopped cheering, and there was a swatting sound. “I am right here,” she scolded.

“It was – good,” Fitz said, “but kind of…I don’t know. Weird.” 

“Weird, how?”

“Just…I don’t know. Wasn’t ready for it, I guess.

Neither Mack nor Elena responded, and when Mack finally did speak, it was to change the topic. “Making any other friends?

“Alliances,” Elena interjected. “They’re alliances, not friendships.”

Fitz smiled. “Well, Hunter, my roommate. This is his phone. And Jemma, I guess.”

There was a short pause. Fitz inspected his fingernails, thinking over his last statement. There was nothing in there that – 

“Who’s Jemma?”

“Oh,” Fitz replied, not sounding as casual as he felt he ought to. “She’s Skye’s agent, and one of the producers. I’ve probably talked to her more than Skye, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” Mack observed.

“She’s nice,” Fitz added, staring to feel a little self-conscious. “And smart too.”

“Hmm,” Mack repeated. 

“Anyway, I better go. Don’t want to be caught on the phone.”

He disconnected the call before Mack could say – or imply – anything else.

**

Fitz unexpectedly found himself with the wedge-shaped ball in his hand. As if it were on fire, he immediately tossed it to Trip. But not quickly enough. He stumbled but managed to keep his balance, as Grant pushed into him unnecessarily hard while ripping off the plastic tail hanging from Fitz’s waist.

A shrill whistle interrupted the game. Skye, dressed in a referee uniform that was tailored beyond all reason in order to be much more form-fitting and revealing, came over, followed by three or four cameramen. 

“Now, Grant,” Skye began, “this is flag football, no tackling.”

“If you want to see me pull someone down to the ground and land on top of them, I’d be happy to show you,” Grant responded, winking.

Skye laughed, and Fitz rolled his eyes, while simultaneously feeling a little jealous that he was never able to flirt all that easily with her. He was supposed to be wooing her, and instead he was just the first loser out of the game.

“Sorry, Fitz, you’re out,” Skye said, as if she read his mind.

“That’s – ” he broke off, ducking his head to the side as a camera pushed in towards his face. “That’s OK. I need a break anyway.”

He walked away, heading towards Jemma, not staying to see Skye’s response.

“Good luck, Grant,” he heard Skye say. “The winner gets immunity this week.”

His frown turned into a grin as soon as he reached Jemma and saw her holding a water bottle out to him. She smiled back, and they both leaned against the table to watch the rest of the game. 

“American football is stupid, anyway,” Jemma said.

Fitz nodded in agreement.

“Everything OK?”

“Yeah,” Fitz said with a sigh. “I guess I’m still just not used to all these cameras. I don’t know. I’m not going to win, so maybe I should just…”

“Don’t talk like that,” Jemma said, supportively but sounding a touch nervous as well. “I want you to be here for a lot longer.”

He shrugged, feeling slightly better but also feeling a blush rise up his neck.

They watched the game in silence. As each contestant was pulled out, they collapsed onto the sidelines, remaining in full view of Skye and the cameras. Fitz was thankful none came to bother him and Jemma. They both cheered when Trip beat Grant, earning immunity for himself and keeping Grant at risk.

**

“Oh my God, Daisy!”

Jemma rushed into the bedroom where Daisy was resting. She ran right up to her, gripped her hands and shook them in excitement. 

“What?” 

“Disney called. They love you on the show, and they want to wine and dine you tonight! Everything’s working out just as we planned!”

Daisy’s eyebrows rose as she grinned. Tearing her hands away from Jemma’s, she rolled off the bed and bounced towards the closet.

“What should I wear?”

“Oh, definitely something – ”

“More girly, yes. That lavender – ”

“Excellent. And curl your hair.”

Daisy took the dress off its hanger, then hid behind a screen in the corner as she changed. 

“Hey, what was with Fitz at the game today?”

“Oh…he just is still weirded out by all this, I think.”

“But you still want him to be the one, right?”

Jemma felt like there was a painful ulcer in her stomach. Maybe something she ate. “Yes,” she confirmed.

Daisy reappeared, turning her back to Jemma. Jemma stepped closer, and pulled the zipper up. With a flourish, Daisy turned to face her.

“Beautiful.”

“So, then,” Daisy continued, “he needs to get into things more. The shy curmudgeon thing is only going to get him so far. America needs to see him romance me, and they need to believe he’s someone I’d fall for.”

“I – know,” Jemma agreed. 

“Why don’t you take him off-campus tonight? Give him a pep talk.”

“Oh…I – I don’t – ”

“Bring him to my house! Jane will cook you a nice dinner.”

“Um, Daisy, maybe – ”

“Please, Jemma? I have to do my hair and make-up and focus on this Disney thing. I’m trusting you to take care of this for me.”

With that, she turned and headed towards the bathroom. Jemma struggled for a response, but all that came out was a squeak.


	4. Chapter 4

“This is amazing,” Fitz observed, taking a second bite. He glanced up at Jemma, with a teasing smile. “But not as good as your homemade pesto aioli.”

Jemma laughed, blushing. The candles glowing on the table made her look beautiful. That thought confused Fitz, so he looked away quickly. 

“So,” Jemma said, “the reason we’re here is – I just want to make sure you’re OK. I know you’ve been struggling with the cameras and – ”

“Yeah, I know, I know. I’ll try harder, I promise. I just…can we not talk about the show? Just for tonight? Can we just pretend the show doesn’t exist?”

He pleaded at her with his eyes, turning the charm up as high as he could. Eventually, Jemma smiled.

“All right,” she agreed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You.”

“Me?” Jemma seemed surprised, causing Fitz to laugh. “No one ever wants to talk about me.”

“Can’t imagine why not,” Fitz argued. “You’re fascinating.”

Jemma clicked her tongue, dismissing his attempts at flirtation. Fitz couldn’t help but notice how easy it came when there were no cameras around. 

“Come on,” Fitz cajoled. “How did you get into all this? It doesn’t really seem a natural fit, no offense.”

Jemma laughed. “None taken. I’ve been faking my way through this for years!”

“OK, now you have to tell me.”

Stalling, Jemma cut a piece of her food, then chewed it slowly. Fitz waited her out, eyebrows raised in challenge. Finally, Jemma shrugged.

“We came out to L.A. for an adventure during my gap year. Daisy was going to waitress somewhere and – ”

“Who’s Daisy? Another friend?” Fitz interrupted, wanting to make sure he got the full story. 

“Oh!” Jemma laughed. “Oh, no. Daisy is Skye’s real name. I’ve known her since her last foster parent, who was my next-door neighbor.”

Fitz was speechless for a moment, then he shook his head. “See what I mean? We’re all supposed to woo someone and we don’t even know the most basic things about her. This whole thing’s ridiculous.”

Jemma nodded, shooting him an eloquent look. “You’re the one who signed up for it.”

“Um, not _really_ ,” he began to argue.

“Do you want to hear this story or not?”

Fitz closed his mouth and pressed his lips together hard, and Jemma smiled. After a moment, she continued, “One night, we went out to a karaoke bar. Daisy belted out an amazing cover of some hit song, I don’t even remember what. There was a talent scout for the label there that night, who approached her. Daisy claimed I was her agent, and here we are, what, almost ten years later. I really can’t believe anyone bought it, honestly. I’m a terrible liar.”

Fitz grinned. “Gap year from what?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you were taking a gap year.” 

“Oh.” Fitz watched curiously as Jemma’s brow furrowed. She seemed sad all of a sudden, or perhaps confused by the emotions sparked by the memory. “She had just finished high school; I was going to apply for grad school. Biochem.”

Fitz nodded, understanding her clear feelings of regret and lost opportunity. If anyone could understand, it’d be him. So, he asked her what she once asked him.

“Would you go back to school someday? Pop stars have a short shelf life, after all.”

Jemma shot him a pained smile. “Or she’ll be Cher or Madonna or someone and I’ll spend the next 30 years doing what she wants and cleaning up her messes.” 

Fitz was silent for several beats, unsure how to respond. Finally, he just did what he wanted to and reached out to rest his hand over hers. She looked up in surprise, a bashful smile growing on her face. Then she turned her hand palm-up, lightly brushing her fingers against his wrist.

“Want to go for a walk?” Fitz suggested. 

“There’s nowhere to walk in L.A.”

Fitz looked out the window, at the swimming pool and the fairy-light-filled yard and the private beach beyond it. “Doesn’t she have, like, an entire compound?”

Jemma looked out the window herself, licking her lips as she nodded. She lifted her free hand to quickly wipe at the tears that had formed. Fitz didn’t know whether to feel guilty for causing them, or honored that she felt comfortable enough around him to show them. 

“Come on,” she said.

She pulled him up from the table and out the nearby patio door, never once dropping his hand. Fitz stroked his thumb over the back of hers, smiling when she tightened her grip in response.

“Over there,” he joked, pointing with their linked hands, “is where I’ll build my garage and shop, when I win.”

“ _When_?” Jemma asked. 

“Obviously I’m going to win,” Fitz pretended to boast. “I’m really looking forward to being a kept man.”

Jemma laughed. “You’d just give up your job like that?”

“Eh, Mack would deserve it after forcing me into this in the first place.”

“I would love to forget about all this, and go and meet him and Elena sometime.”

Fitz glanced at her, something sparking his curiosity. “Skye – Daisy said the same thing.”

“Did she?” Jemma asked, suddenly sounding cagey. Fitz narrowed his eyes. “We’re pretty similar after all these years.” 

Fitz stopped walking as they reached the pool’s edge. He let his suspicion go – for now, and he shook his head. 

“I don’t think so,” he said softly. “You’re far more…what else would you like to forget about and do?”

Jemma looked at him with a confused question in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you want anything for yourself?” he asked, reaching out so he was holding both hands, and almost daring her to be brave. “If you could choose, where do _you_ see yourself in 30 years?”

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. She pulled her hands from his, turning and walking away. “It’s silly,” she said, and Fitz’s heart hurt at the way she dismissed her own dreams. “But there’s this cottage in Perthshire my family drove past one holiday. And it was so beautiful. I used to imagine living there. A little garden, a science lab in the basement. Maybe – maybe some kids.”

Fitz was speechless as he imagined it. As he unexpectedly imagined himself there, completing the fantasy. 

“Perthshire?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. “That’s in Scotland.”

She turned to face him again. Her face was so open, raw and vulnerable. She was trembling. “I know where it is.”

Fitz inhaled sharply. Before he could overthink it, he stepped closer, reached out and pulled her to him, and covered her mouth with his. Jemma’s body molded against his, her arms lifting to wrap around his neck. She gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, moaning into her mouth as he did so. Eventually, but far too soon, their lips separated. Fitz looked down at her, feeling dazed and enjoying the sensation of her fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck.

“Click,” he murmured. “Definite click.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, just – ”

She suddenly let go of him, backing away. She looked as if she might throw up, which was a reaction no one ever wanted to see from a person they just kissed. Fitz struggled for something to say, but Jemma began walking towards the door. 

“We should get back,” she declared.

**

Neither of them had said anything on the ride. Jemma wanted to scream. The problem was she knew what she wanted to say, and she knew what she had to say, and they were not the same thing. But now, they were outside the door to the mansion, so she had to say _something_.

“It was a mistake,” she blurted. It sounded as credible as every other lie she tried to tell.

Fitz glanced at her sharply, then looked at the ground again. Nodding, he replied, “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

Jemma fought the urge to step closer, to take him in her arms and assure him there was nothing to apologize for. But the show must go on.

“It was nice, though,” he said, rather impishly, the contrition falling away as he looked up at her with twinkling eyes.

Jemma laughed, blinking away tears. “It was nice,” she agreed.

They stared at each other for a moment, and she felt it again – that magnetic pull drawing her closer to him. She shook her head to clear it of the images of what might happen if she gave into those desires.

“Good night, Fitz,” she said determinedly.

He grinned at her, almost more boyish than seductive. He turned, opened the door, and entered the mansion. Jemma remained frozen on the step for a moment, then turned away with a sigh. Just in time, it turned out. The car pulling up to the door was the same one that had taken Daisy away to her meeting with the Mouse.

Jemma watched Daisy climb out the door that the driver held open for her, but waited until the car was gone again before speaking.

“Well?” 

“In the bag,” Daisy said. “They’re expecting your call.”

Jemma celebrated, pulling her fist down sharply. “Never any doubt,” she claimed. 

“What about you?” Daisy asked, walking past Jemma towards the door of the mansion. “Did you handle Fitz?”

A sudden mental image of how she did – and how she would like to – handle Fitz popped into Jemma’s brain. She coughed to stall for time.

“I think he’ll try harder.”

“Good,” Daisy said. “I mean, he’s still the one you want, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Jemma said, breathlessly. She inhaled, then smiled quickly, hoping Daisy wouldn’t notice her strange behavior. “And, if he made it to the finals, you’d definitely pick him?”

Daisy shrugged. “Sure. I gotta say, though, I’m no more into the idea of a relationship than I was at the start. I think I’m just ready to be single for a while. Dating all these guys is _exhausting_!”

She laughed at her own joke, but all Jemma could manage was a weak smile. Daisy went inside, and Jemma turned away, heading towards her car. Almost unconsciously, she lifted two fingers and touched them to her lips. She could still feel Fitz’s kiss.

**

On one side of the Key Room, all alone on the _loser’s_ couch, sat Grant. He scowled, staring across the room at the other men standing next to Skye and holding keys. The hardest one to accept was that short nerd. And he had gotten the most votes out of everyone again? _Unbelievable._ He watched as the man – Fitz, and what kind of stupid name was that? – looked off to the side, behind the cameras. He stared at something for a moment, and Ward was about to follow his eyeline, when Fitz focused on Skye again. He smiled unnaturally wide, trying too hard as if it was a challenge to be happy for a chance at a relationship with Skye.

It was so unfair. And it made no sense. What did he have that Grant Ward didn’t have?

**

“Would you move out of L.A.?” Fitz asked, pretending he was absolutely coordinated enough to eat pasta in front of cameras while on a candlelit dinner with Skye. Nothing dangerous about that, no.

“Oh, maybe,” she said. “I’ve thought about trying New York for a while. Or,” she added, leadingly, “we could spend some time at your home in London.”

Fitz furrowed his brow. “I’m not from – London’s not in – never mind. I meant a smaller city. Or even a suburb.”

“Suburb?” Skye sounded like she had smelled something particular nasty.

“If you – we – have kids, I mean.”

“ _Kids?_ ”

“You don’t want kids?”

Skye stared at him for a beat, then looked off to the side, almost expectantly. Fitz noticed her eyes open wider, but whatever she was trying to communicate to the crew wasn’t being received. She faced him, forced a smile, held up one finger, and stood.

“Cut!” May yelled.

Fitz watched as Skye hurried over to the crew. He couldn’t say the conversation was that surprising…or disappointing. He definitely wanted kids someday, and he wouldn’t want to raise them in a large city. But he also was definitely starting to realize that – successful, attractive superstar or not – Skye was not the woman of his dreams.

Soon, she was back at the table again. “Shall we take that from the top?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“Ah…what was the top again?”

“You don’t want kids,” she prompted.

“You don’t want kids?” he repeated dutifully, if a little insincerely.

There was a slight pause. It was possible she was thinking over her answer, but it almost appeared as if she were listening to something Fitz couldn’t hear. “I think that’s a decision we should make together, when the time comes,” she finally said.

“That’s a good answer,” Fitz responded, absent-mindedly. He was distracted by something off-set. Jemma was standing in a funny sort of pose, twisted away from them with one hand curled and covering her mouth. 

Skye continued. “How about some coffee with our dessert? I am knack – tired.”

At the exact moment Skye stumbled over her words, Jemma turned towards them again. Fitz saw her mouth moving, the words she formed just slightly ahead of the ones that Skye repeated. And she saw Fitz looking back at her, or so Fitz guessed by the way her eyes widened and her face turned pale. Fitz bit his lip to stop his smile.

He turned to focus on Skye again. “I’ll take tea,” he said, the joy bubbling up inside of him causing him to laugh. 

Soon enough, the dinner was over and May called cut for the final time. Fitz unclipped his microphone and was halfway across the room before the sound tech even seemed to react. He caught Jemma just before she managed to sneak out. 

“All this time,” he hissed, “I’ve been so confused. It felt like I was falling for two different women. But it all makes sense now.”

“Good!” Jemma evaded, the false cheer in her voice painful to listen to. “Skye’s a really wonderful – ”

“Yeah, she’s great,” he interrupted, “but it’s been you all along, hasn’t it?”

“Not…all along,” she admitted, finally accepting that the scam was up. 

“On the stairs that time?”

“Yes.”

“And the walk in the garden, when she kissed me?” 

“Yes – _but_ I didn’t tell her to kiss you.”

“I didn’t want to be kissed,” Fitz confirmed.

“It was the wrong time,” they said simultaneously.

Jemma breathed out sharply, looking away, but Fitz stared at her. “So, it’s all you,” he said, his voice soft but intense. “It’s always been you.”

Jemma looked at him again. She shook her head firmly. “You need to do the show, Fitz. You’re going to win this thing. And eventually you’ll fall for Skye. Everyone does.”

That time, she did walk away and Fitz let her.

For now.

**

“Sad to see you go,” Fitz observed after the most recent Key ceremony.

He leaned against the door to the loo, watching Hunter pack his belongings. Hunter just shrugged.

“My own fault. If Skye hadn’t started talking types with me, it’d be fine. I’m the one that said my ideal woman was a tall, blonde Amazon who could kick the crap out of me.”

“How tall is Bobbi?” Fitz teased.

Hunter grinned at him, even as he crouched down for the last of his items. 

“So, what now?”

“My agent already has booked auditions for a lawyer on a cop show and some superhero spy show. My star is rising.”

“Speaking of which, don’t forget your phone,” Fitz whispered, nodding in the direction of where it was stashed.

“Nah, that’s a burner. It’s yours now. You need it more than I do, mate.”

Fitz shrugged in agreement, not about to turn down the offer. He followed Hunter back into the bedroom. Hunter stuffed his travel kit into the suitcase, then faced Fitz. Surprisingly, he then pulled him into a quick hug.

“Win this thing, OK?”

“I’ll…do my best,” Fitz promised, for the camera, at least. 

“Where are you going on your get-away with Skye?”

“Don’t know yet. Joey is going first.”

“OK, well, good luck. And look me up when this is over. We’ll get together – without cameras following our every move.”

Fitz waved as Hunter walked out the door. He had his own room now. He wasn’t as relieved about that as he felt he should be.

**

“So…I was just wondering…” Jemma took a breath, calming her nerves. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me?”

There was no response. Not that Jemma was expecting one. She could only hope that Fitz would be more enthusiastic than the small stuffed bulldog sitting on the corner of her desk.

But she’d have to worry about that when the time came. She had so many other things to worry about first, from the Disney negotiations to the dread of Fitz and Daisy’s upcoming romantic trip to the gut-wrenching fear that he really would fall for her and they would live happily ever after while Jemma stayed single and sad and…had conversations with her stuffed animals.

With a whine, she dropped her head onto her desk only to lift it again when her phone rang. She darted a hand out, answering it before it trilled again.

“Hello?”

“So, Joey’s on his trip with Skye,” Fitz began, causing Jemma to jump out of her chair with surprised excitement. 

“How did you get my number?” she blurted. “How did you get a _phone_?”

“Trip spends an ungodly two hours in the gym before going to bed at nine-fricking-thirty PM in order to keep functioning and well-rested,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Anyone who’s not on location with Joey and Skye took a well-deserved night off as soon as May finally left.”

Jemma breathed shallowly. If her heart wasn’t racing before, it was now. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we have the place effectively to ourselves. Want to maybe bring a pizza over and…hang out?”

“Um…” What did _hang out_ mean? “Sure?”

“Great!” She could hear his grin over the phone. “See you soon.”

He hung up, but it took her another moment or two to lower her mobile from her ear. She beamed at the empty room, even as she leaned forward to Google the (fastest) nearest pizza parlor. After she placed the order, she considered showering and shaving, or at least changing her knickers. But no. There was no need for that. They weren’t going to – they were just _hanging out_.

“I’m going to get fired,” she muttered as she closed the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure that thing works?” Jemma asked. 

“I’m sure,” Fitz repeated probably the fifth time. 

Jemma glanced up at the camera one more time, then decided to believe him. They were sitting on the ground, having an impromptu nighttime picnic, and if Fitz was correct, the creepy motion-activated surveillance camera was just showing a quiet, dark yard and empty pool. It had been a pretty perfect night so far, even if they kept their conversation focused on neutral topics – her parents and his mum, his inventions, her favorite places in L.A., their experiences growing up. They’d have to deal with the elephant eventually. For now, Jemma just wanted to enjoy his company. 

Perhaps her only complaint was the chilly breeze. She shivered and took the opportunity to scoot closer to Fitz and rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Cold?” he asked, putting an arm around her.

“A little,” she acknowledged, smiling as he hugged her tighter.

“It’s funny. In films, L.A. is always warm.”

“Yeah. And you’d think you and I should be able to handle it. I’m just acclimated, I guess.”

Fitz hummed contemplatively. “If you’re cold,” he suggested, “we could go in the hot tub.”

Jemma snorted.

“What?” he asked faux-innocently.

“Subtle.”

“Just thinking of your comfort.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. His teasing expression made her want to see how far he would take things.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

He raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Jemma burst into laughter.

“I’m not skinny-dipping at my sort-of place of employment,” she stated. 

“So, we leave, ah, some things on.”

She looked at him again, shaking her head in disbelief. And then she called his bluff. Or maybe she just wanted to give in. She stood.

He seemed unable to respond at first, until she looked back at him as she walked towards the stairs to the tub.

“Come on,” she called back softly.

She heard Fitz scramble to his feet, and she chuckled at his urgency. Without allowing herself to stop and think about all the reasons this was wrong, she stripped to just her underwear. The breeze was even colder against her bare skin, and she hurried into the tub.

She had just made it to the far end and turned to sit when she heard Fitz enter. She watched him walk down the stairs and sink into the water until his chest (surprisingly solid, Jemma noted, with the perfect amount of hair) was covered. She considered turning on the jets but decided she wanted to be able to see under the surface.

Of course, that meant that he could see under too, and she remembered she didn’t change her knickers just as he noticed them.

“What are those?” he asked, laughing and reaching out towards her.

“Nothing,” Jemma replied, pushing off the wall to glide towards the opposite side, just out of his reach.

She fought a blush as he tried to get a better view. Of all the silly things she could have chosen to wear that day. So much for trying to be sexy. Fitz moved closer again, tilting his head at an angle.

“Would you stop?” Jemma asked, giggling. 

“Jemma,” he argued, “you have little double helices on your pants. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She guffawed. “OK. Sure.”

“I mean, besides the soaked white bra you’ve got on, but that’s a given.”

Jemma immediately crossed her arms over her chest, prompting Fitz to laugh. “This was really the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had.”

She decided to turn the tables on him, and pointedly looked down at his shorts. The white fabric was basically see-through where it clung to him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, and the dark hair and rapidly hardening cock were tantalizing. She licked her lips. 

Both of them sobered. Things didn’t seem quite so funny anymore. And then, Fitz reached out to grab her arm and pull her across the tub. She ended up in his lap, her knees resting on the uncomfortably rough bench on either side of his thighs. Their mouths connected in a desperate, uncoordinated kiss, and they moaned in unison as Jemma closed the distance between their lower bodies as well. She rocked against him, smoothing her hands over his warm chest and back, the movement made easier by the slip-slide of the water. 

Perhaps it was because of all the teasing, perhaps because she wanted him so much, or even perhaps because it had been so long since she met someone who understood her like he did, if she ever had. At any rate, she was already close to coming, and judging by the sounds he was making, she wasn’t the only one. It took all her strength to break the kiss and back away. She held one hand to his chest, pushing him back.

“Wait, wait,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to duck his head forward and kiss her again.

“We can’t – not in here.”

Fitz breathed wildly for a moment, then nodded in understanding. He pushed her off him, to Jemma’s dismay, and then led her to the entrance. He climbed out, a bit awkwardly considering his state of arousal. Dragging her by the hand, he reached out for a towel from the nearby pile. Jemma nodded. They’d dry off, sneak into the mansion. With Lance gone, Fitz had his own room, and he already demonstrated he knew how to tamper with the cameras undetected.

Fitz seemed to have other ideas, however. He dropped her hand to take one edge of the towel with both of his, then fluffed it out to lay it on the ground. He turned back to her, tugging her closer and pushing on her shoulder until she sat down.

“Not what I had in mind,” she observed, but her laugh quickly died out as Fitz joined her on the towel, guided her to her back and stretched out over her. “Hard to believe you’re the same guy who can barely flirt on camera.” 

“Just needed the right woman,” he countered. 

Jemma’s smile was lost in his kiss. Soon, their hips were back to moving at the same frenzied pace they were in the tub. Fitz broke away from the kiss, angling his head down to suck at one of her nipples through her bra. Jemma didn’t know if it was that or the cold air against her heated skin that made her shiver all over. She wanted to cry when he reached down and started to pull her knickers away and her very last functioning brain cell made her stop him again.

“We can’t,” she whimpered.

“I know,” Fitz responded, less than convincingly considering the way his fingers started to dance over her clit. “I know it’s against the rules, but – ”

“No, I’m not on – do you have a condom?” she practically begged.

“Shit, no,” Fitz cursed when he realized what she was saying.

Despite the interruption, neither one had stopped moving against each other. Jemma was pretty sure she’d start bawling if she didn’t come soon.

“But – but otherwise, you’d want to?” Fitz asked ludicrously. “It’s not that – not because of – ”

“No,” Jemma gasped. “I want to.” 

Fitz groaned, burying his face by her neck as he thrust his cock against her harder. Jemma cried out, scrunching her fingers in his hair and pulling enough until his head lifted. She angled forward, latching her mouth onto his neck as her orgasm began. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shouted, and she could feel the spread of his release as it added to the dampness of his shorts.

He lowered himself onto her, and Jemma wrapped her arms around him in a tight, needy embrace, floating on all the lovely hormones and neurotransmitters coursing through her. 

“OK,” she said, as soon as she found her voice, “clearly, you’re not a virgin.”

Fitz’s whole body shook as he laughed. Soon, he propped himself on his elbows. Jemma exhaled as the shift in weight caused him to rub against her over-sensitized clit.

Without his closeness and as she started to calm, Jemma noticed the temperature again. “It’s freezing out here!”

“Need to get inside,” Fitz agreed. “I think it’s pushing our luck staying.” Despite his clear regret at mentioning it, he also apparently couldn’t help but add, “even if we did get lucky.”

Jemma rolled her eyes to hide how cute she found his puns, pushing him up and off her. She reached out to pull her discarded clothes closer.

“I should get home before someone spots us.”

Fitz nodded in understanding, even as he grabbed his own clothes. But before he got dressed, he reached out one last time, hooked a hand under her chin, and used it to pull her into a kiss.

“That was amazing,” he murmured against her lips.

**

The night before Fitz’s trip with Daisy, they were taking advantage of the fact that no one else ever used the library and it was one of the few rooms without any cameras, although they had pushed one of the large chairs in front of the door to be safe. Curled up in Fitz’s lap in the other chair, Jemma luxuriated in the glow of the fire and the feel of Fitz’s arms around her.

“Are you sure you can’t go? I’m not actually sharing a room with Skye, so we can wait until everyone’s gone to sleep and – ”

“I’m sure,” Jemma said, sighing in disappointment. “It would look too weird since I didn’t go on the others. Besides, the skeleton crew is supposed to give the illusion of intimacy.”

Fitz nodded but didn’t seem happy about it. He slipped a hand under Jemma’s skirt and cupped her bum, which seemed to cheer him up a bit. Jemma growled, leaning forward to nip at his jaw.

“I also don’t see why Trip got to go to San Juan, and I’m going north. Victoria is _such_ a romantic destination.”

“I just don’t want anyone seeing you in a swimsuit.”

Fitz snorted. “Yeah, ratings would plummet and the show would lose all its sponsors.”

Jemma kissed him four or five times in the corner of his mouth until he gave in and met her in a real kiss. When they broke apart, sometime later, they were both breathing heavily.

“I’m going to miss you,” Jemma whispered.

Fitz’s only response was to shift her weight and crawl out from under her. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair, and looked up at her with an adoring yet heated expression.

“Let me give you something to remember me by.”

Jemma bit her lip, choosing not to point out that a weekend was not exactly going off to war. Instead, she closed her eyes, sighing in anticipation as Fitz flipped up her skirt and pulled down her pants. She smiled, waiting for his response, and he didn’t disappoint.

“Beakers and flasks? Be still my heart.”

“Thought you’d like those,” she teased, her voice giving out as his mouth made contact.

Jemma writhed, pressing her hands down on the armrests for support as she twisted and lifted her hips for a better angle. Fitz’s lips and tongue seemed almost magical. She was already breathing hard, worried about the little squeaks she was making, but not too worried to stop him. If they got caught, it’d be worth it. Mostly. 

Fitz added the fingers of one hand, causing Jemma’s head to rock back sharply, hitting the back of the chair. She opened her eyes, stared into the fire unseeingly, and – when he pressed inside her – moaned loudly. 

His other hand reached up, covering her mouth as if to muffle her sounds, but Jemma simply sucked his fingers in. She stroked her tongue against the digits, and created enough suction to give him _ideas_ and make him grunt in approval. He backed away below, just long and far enough to catch his breath, and then he dove back in. 

Jemma threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling on it sharply as she came, drooling a bit around his fingers. As she came down from the high, he pulled his hands away from both sets of her lips and hugged her around the waist, resting his head in her lap.

“I can’t go on the trip. I can’t keep pretending.”

Jemma sighed, her heart agreeing but it was her brain who answered. “You’re the top choice. I’m not going to let you just quit. Short of being the world’s worst date and making all of America hate you, I don’t see how you’re getting out of this.”

Fitz raised his head in dawning relief.

“That’s it! I’ll be the biggest tool on the planet, and they’ll have to cut me. Trip will be a much more photogenic winner anyway.”

Jemma smiled fondly at him, stroking one hand down his face.

“OK, that’s pretty brilliant,” she observed.

“Of course, it is,” he agreed with a roll of his eyes. “It was your idea.”

**

“Wow, look at this room,” Skye enthused as she led Fitz into the room she’d have during the trip.

He’d be next door, but of course, the cameras wouldn’t show that. He wondered if Skye and the other two had actually slept in separate rooms, or if they’d taken advantage of the opportunity. Not to suggest Skye was…promiscuous, but she _was_ supposed to be picking a potential husband from the three of them, after all. She might want to sample the merchandise, as it were. And if so, Fitz would have to pull out all the stops to make sure she didn’t try to arrange an off-camera rendezvous over the next couple days.

“It’s OK, I guess. I kind of was expecting this place to be fancier.”

Skye looked around the room and then back at him with utter confusion. It was without a doubt the most tastefully elegant hotel he’d been inside in his life. 

“OK…so, should we go see some of the city before dinner? We have reservations at a place that has a month-long waiting list, apparently.”

“I cancelled them. I read about an expat pub that I want to go to.”

“O…K…”

Neither one said anything for a while. Fitz tried to keep a straight face at her expression, but it was hard. 

“So, did you want to go out?” 

“Fine, I guess.” He sat on the bed, sliding back until his dirty shoes were on the duvet. “I’ll wait while you change into something more appropriate.” 

She looked down at her outfit, which Fitz was pretty sure was couture. 

He did start feeling a pinch guilty at dinner, however. When the waiter arrived at their table, Fitz waved away the menus. 

“I’ll have the fish and chips, and she’ll have the haggis.”

“Ah, just – ” Skye barely managed to get out before the waiter nodded and walked away.

“Did you just order for me?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Mmm,” Fitz acknowledged. “It’s my great-aunt’s favorite. I want you to taste the authentic dish before she comes lives with us, so you know how to cook it. You’ll have plenty of time to learn after you stop singing, of course.” 

Skye happened to be taking a fortifying sip of her beer at the time, and nearly coughed it all over herself.

**

“I’m surprised she didn’t kill me,” Fitz admitted, laughing.

When he finally made it to his own room for the night, he dug out Lance’s phone that he had packed inside his socks. Jemma answered on the first ring, as if she’d been waiting for the call. Stretched out on the mattress, Fitz chuckled to himself as he recalled some of Skye’s reactions in the seconds before she managed to control them.

“Date from hell?” Jemma asked.

“Absolutely. After she choked down the haggis, I made sure to remind her not to order dessert as she couldn’t really stand to gain any more weight.

“Oh my God! I’m surprised she hasn’t called me to complain yet.”

“She’s probably raided the mini bar.”

Jemma laughed. “Well, I feel a little bad about it, but she’ll live. I’m glad the plan is going to…plan.”

“Me too,” Fitz replied, grinning as he folded one arm behind his head. After a brief pause, he added, “It is beautiful here, though. We should come up sometime.”

“OK,” Jemma agreed readily. “We’ll have to find a different hotel though. My travel budget is not as big as the show’s.”

“Too bad. This room is luxurious. Very romantic.”

Jemma’s hum was intrigued and intriguing. Fitz decided to push his luck.

“These sheets, for example. Super soft. Particularly against bare skin. I might have to sleep nude.”

“Really?” She sounded breathless.

“Jemma,” he asked, voice a low-pitched growl, “what’s on your knickers?”

The peal of laughter on the other end was a shade on the side of amused rather than aroused. Once she calmed herself, she responded, perhaps a bit theatrically seductive, “Carbon molecules.”

“Fuck, yes,” Fitz said.

**

Jemma stood next to May, waiting for the Key ceremony to begin. On set, only Phil and Trip looked comfortable and happy as they chatted together. Fitz was nervous, Joey possibly even more so, and Daisy was clearly annoyed and trying to hide it. Jemma had been avoiding Daisy the past few days, claiming she was too busy to talk much. Honestly, she felt a little guilty about the whole thing. It wasn’t like Daisy had done anything _wrong_ , after all. She was just…in the way.

May sighed, and Jemma glanced over. 

“Everything OK?”

May shook her head, then sipped from her coffee. “I was up literally all night with the editors the last few days trying to find something to creatively scrape together.”

“Um, what?”

“I don’t know what got into Fitz, but he was a complete ass. Thankfully, I was able to salvage a few moments of something that might be romance, if you squint.”

“You – but, why not just – it would have been an easy choice for America,” Jemma responded, her heart sinking. 

She should have realized the show wouldn’t just drop the clear frontrunner. They had worked so hard to play up all his best qualities in the editing before now, finding suave and sexy moments from the times Daisy (or sometimes Jemma, through the wonders of technology) had flustered him so much he could barely speak. Why wouldn’t they strategically edit his less-than-flattering moments too?

“Had no choice, really, after what happened with Joey.”

**

“Before we reveal the voting results, let’s rewatch highlights from last week to remind everyone at home what happened on these romantic getaways!”

Fitz turned to the screen, a part of him wondering if Phil really was as enthusiastic and sincere about everything as he appeared to be. Even when the cameras weren’t rolling, he seemed truly invested in – almost paternal about – all of them. 

Scenes from Joey and Skye’s trip played first – a few scenes of them shopping, laughing about something, a quote from Skye about how she’s pretty sure Joey was going to be happier than ever now. Then, the tape cut to Trip with both arms wrapped around Skye as they looked in the window of a jewelry store, Trip tossing Skye into the water at the beach, and the two strolling hand-in-hand past an old fort. Both weekends looked fantastic. They probably split the votes pretty evenly. Fitz hid a smile as he wondered how the audience had reacted to his trip. He leaned closer to watch as the recap cut to an establishing shot of Victoria.

“Wow, look at this room,” the Skye on the screen said. 

And that was about the last thing that was recognizable. A romantic ballad played over a montage of the two of them walking along the harbor, and later sitting in the restaurant, and worst of all, at the end, they showed him just start to slide onto the bed. 

“I’ll wait while you change into something more _comfortable_ ,” the him of several days ago said, apparently with the help of a voice-over actor who could do a Scottish accent. The video cut out.

“Wow,” Phil exclaimed, “Looks like things got pretty steamy up north!”

Fitz wanted to scream. He glanced over towards Jemma, but she wouldn’t look back at him. Her face was stony and solemn, and he could see the fist clenched at her side. Next to him, he knew Phil was talking. He could sense various reactions, he vaguely registered Joey kissing Skye’s cheek before moving to the other couch, and then the sound of Phil saying his own name broke through his haze.

He stood, reacting almost mechanically, as Skye placed the key in his palm. 

“Leader in the votes again,” Phil said cheerfully. “It looks like Skye isn’t the only one who’s falling for you!”

“I guess I have lots of competition from the rest of America,” Skye agreed. She put up her fists towards the camera teasingly. 

And then, finally, May called cut. Fitz stormed off set, dropping the key with a clunk onto the table as he passed it. He shot Jemma one eloquent look, but he didn’t stop.

She caught up with him just as he swung his bedroom door open wide. 

“Fitz,” she began.

“I’m done with this, Jemma,” he said, punctuating the statement by pulling his suitcase out and throwing it on the bed so he could pack. “The show will just have to go on without me.”

“I didn’t know they were going to edit it like that. Although apparently, they had no choice – yours wasn’t even the worst considering the crew spotted the concierge sneaking out of Joey’s room. The male concierge.”

The statement was enough to shock Fitz into stopping for a moment – although it maybe wasn’t that shocking if he thought about it. But then he just shook his head. 

“So, if we had just gotten caught, we could have been done with this sham too?

“ _Fitz._ ” Jemma gritted through her teeth, nodding significantly at the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

Fitz glanced up, sighed, then reached out for her elbow. He guided her into the loo, and dropped his voice low.

“I didn’t fall for Skye, Jemma. I fell for you, and I can’t – ”

“I know! I feel the same way, but – ”

“Hey guys?”

Both of them jumped in surprise when Skye suddenly appeared in the bathroom door. 

“Next time you want to have a personal conversation,” she said, reaching under the flap of Fitz’s jacket and pulling out the battery of the mic still hooked up to him. She held it up, so they could see it was turned on. “Make sure your mics are off. Jemma, you’re fired.”

Skye dropped the battery and Fitz fumbled to catch it. Skye turned and walked away. Jemma made a small sound of shocked protest, but seemed otherwise speechless as she looked in the direction Skye had gone. 

Fitz heaved a breath, feeling suddenly exhausted. 

“Go after her,” he said. “We both know you’re going to.”

Jemma looked at him. Tears were welling in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. “But – ”

“No buts, Jemma. This is all just…too much.”

He walked out of the room and over to his suitcase again. He couldn’t look at her as she finally left but he did hear her sniff back sobs.


	6. Chapter 6

The tears had turned to anger before she made it even partway down the corridor. Before she could talk herself out of it, Jemma stomped towards Daisy’s room. With one perfunctory knock, she stepped inside and slammed the door behind her.

“Daisy!” she snapped.

Daisy, who by the looks of it had been pulling at her hair, which was now half-loose around her shoulders, stopped mid-pace and whirled to face her.

“I can’t _believe_ you, Jemma. You’re the one who wanted to do this show in the first place, and you risk _everything_ by screwing one of the contestants?”

Jemma shook her head, feeling the need to defend herself. “It’s not just – I – ”

“He really knew how to play the game right, though, didn’t he?” Daisy continued, scoffing. “Don’t waste time with the star. To win, you just gotta seduce the producer who hasn’t been laid in three years.”

Jemma’s mouth dropped open in outrage. Any guilt about upsetting her friend, any worry about unprofessional behavior was gone. “Is that what this is all about? You’re upset that a man might actually like me when he could have had you?”

“Of course not! I’m worried about you! I don’t want to see you hurt by someone taking advantage of you.”

“Oh, that is _rich_ coming from you,” Jemma practically spat.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Daisy asked, feigning confusion – or perhaps even worse, not feigning at all. 

“You’ve never worried about me once, Daisy!” Jemma accused her. “I’ve devoted my entire adult life to your career. You didn’t even care what I wanted, and the one time I tried to choose something for myself, this is how you react!”

Daisy stepped back, a shocked expression on her face. Jemma wondered if she was surprised about Jemma’s words, or about the fact that she finally said them. Then, Daisy’s face closed off, and she turned away.

“Well, I’m so sorry I made you a ton of money,” she said coldly. “Like I said, that won’t be a problem anymore. You know where the door is.”

Jemma didn’t react for a moment, breathing heavily. Her heart felt like it was going to shatter. She lost Fitz, her job, and Daisy all in one night. All because she had been naïve enough to think – 

“Whatever you say, _Skye_ ,” she finally said, “as usual.”

There was no response, and when Jemma stepped out into the hallway, the door fell closed with an unbearably loud and final-sounding click.

**

The car had barely stopped before Fitz reached to open the door. He crawled inside, just collapsing onto the seat bodily.

“Hey Turbo. Where’s your bag?”

“Lost en route, of fucking course,” he mumbled, feeling a sense of relief as Mack pulled away from the airport curb. “Cherry on top of the shit sundae.”

He turned to his back, one hand coming to rest on his chest. He wondered what Jemma was doing. How she was doing. Maybe he shouldn’t have just left, but he couldn’t be there anymore. He couldn’t pretend to care about Skye, when he was in lo – 

The sound of rustling from the front indicated Elena turning around in the passenger seat to look at him. She was silent for a beat, and he kept his eyes closed so he could pretend he didn’t realize she was staring at him.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I got cut,” he lied pointlessly.

“No, you didn’t. The Key ceremony’s live,” she reminded him.

“I – ” Fitz began, wanting to tell them he didn’t want to talk about it. But he actually did want to say it out loud, finally, and they, of all people, deserved to hear it. He sighed. “I met someone. I fell in love. It just wasn’t Skye.”

There was a pause. Fitz knew Mack and Elena were communicating with each other with their eyes and facial expressions. He used to be amused when he saw them do things like that. One knew just by watching them that they’d been together for ages and would grow old together. He wondered now if he’d ever have someone like that.

“Was it Jemma?” Mack asked, voice kind.

Fitz opened his eyes and blinked at the roof of the car. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “Yeah, it was her.”

And now he’d probably never see her again.

**

It was three days before Jemma worked up the courage to look up Mack’s number from the audition video submission. Fitz wasn’t answering his own phone or Lance’s, so it was the only thing she could think of. She had been more than hesitant to call, wondering if he was still upset. If he had forgiven her for walking out instead of staying in the room and convincing him she chose him. If he still wanted her, now that the magic of Hollywood and the illicit allure of sneaking around had both faded.

She knew most of those worries were silly. That those were things that wouldn’t change how he felt about her. Maybe her real worry was she didn’t quite know how exactly he felt about her. She knew something real, something special, had been forming between them, but they hadn’t had time or opportunity to really talk about it. They had kind of been in a holding pattern, waiting for the show to be over, and now…

Jemma sighed. Only one way to find out. She dialed Mack’s number.

On the other end, it rang twice, and then someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Um…hello,” Jemma said, trying her best to sound cheerful. “Is this Mack?”

“Yes.”

“I – I was wondering if Fitz happened to be there, or if you could help me get in touch with him.”

There was a pause. “Who’s calling?” he asked, but it sounded like he already knew.

“Jemma. From L.A.”

“Hold on.”

She heard muffled voices of at least two, maybe three different people whisper-arguing. Eventually, Mack came back on the line.

“He’s not available,” he said, in a way that suggested he was not happy about the obvious lie. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh, OK,” Jemma replied meekly. “No – no message.”

**

Daisy sighed, rolling over at the sound of an email pinging on her laptop. Her own bed was so much more appropriate for wallowing, so she was glad she got to go home while the network scrambled for a solution to suddenly being down a producer and one of the two finalists. They lucked out that it was already preempted the coming week for some sports thing, at least.

As she sat up, she glanced at the photo on her bedside table. Jemma and her, dressed up and beaming with pride at the launch of her first record. Daisy turned away, focusing on her inbox instead.

The email was from the editor Daisy had asked for help. He had been scouring the footage for a clip show Phil would host next week about the “path to love”, if necessary, so she asked him to keep an eye out for anything that picked up Jemma behind the scenes as well. 

_Here’s the stuff you asked for!_ read the subject line.

With a sickening ball of nerves in her stomach, Daisy downloaded the file and pressed play. 

She recognized the first image immediately – and she immediately slouched further on the bed with a wrench of guilt. Fitz and Jemma, sitting across from each other and making friendly small talk until Daisy humiliated both of them by getting Jemma to ask him about his sex life. Some clips seemed familiar too – Jemma in the kitchen when Fitz was making sandwiches, the two of them standing next to each other watching the flag football game. 

But other bits and moments were new, mostly the two of them getting caught in the background when a scene was getting reset. In one, only partly visible behind Daisy flirting with Vijay, they were passing the pot of cream and a plate of cookies back and forth as they prepared tea. In another, Fitz looked pleased as punch while Jemma laughed hysterically about something. In another, Fitz picked up a book off his chair with a confused furrow in his brow, until he pulled out one of Jemma’s microscope-shaped post-its ( _Look closely at this_ , the pad said; Daisy had seen them so many times on various paperwork, she’d recognize them anywhere) and read the note, which made him grin. Then, a shot of Fitz gesturing at her, and Jemma, with a soft smile, reaching up to touch her hair after a cut that Daisy herself had apparently failed to notice. 

The next scene was picked up by an external surveillance camera, and Daisy could tell immediately from their body language that something had changed. It was only when she glanced at the timestamp that she realized they were returning from the dinner at her house, an observation confirmed when Daisy herself showed up on the screen a few minutes later, back from her Disney meeting.

Daisy paused the video. She sat still for a moment, thinking, wondering. Then, she minimized the window and logged into her home security network. She searched for the relevant date, several hours before the time on the show’s footage, and then fast-forwarded. There they were. Holding hands as they walked by the pool. Talking intently. And then…it turned out Fitz could kiss when he actually wanted to. She was frankly impressed by Jemma’s self-control when, on the tape, she stepped away from him. 

Daisy blinked, stopping the feed and returning to the other video. There was only one more piece of footage – Jemma standing just a smidgen too close as she handed Fitz his bag before the trip to Victoria. Their hands were subtly touching as they both gripped the handle. Daisy joined them onscreen then, and Jemma stepped back, waving goodbye. 

Daisy had thought at the time it was meant for her, but she noticed now how much Fitz and Jemma were focused on each other. Jemma looked in love, and perhaps the happiest Daisy had seen her in a long time. Happier than she was after Daisy and Fitz had returned from the trip from hell. Definitely happier than the last time Daisy saw her.

“Fuck,” Daisy muttered.

**

“He’s so miserable,” Mack reported to Elena.

She carried the salad over to the table he was setting. “I’m working on it,” she said enigmatically. 

Unsurprisingly, the statement did not cheer him up. “Please tell me you’re not going to set him up with another one of your friends. When has that ever worked? It definitely isn’t what he needs right now.”

Elena tilted her head up, stretching to kiss his chin. “Trust me,” she said, before walking back to the stove.

Before he could reply, the doorbell rang. Elena turned to look at him.

“Expecting someone?” he asked.

She shrugged and shook her head, while he walked towards the door. He hoped it wasn’t someone selling stuff. Or a missionary. 

It was neither. As soon as he opened the door, Fitz stormed inside. He waved an envelope near his head, the paper sticking out of it fluttering from the motion 

“They’re suing me!”

“What?” Mack reached out, taking the envelope.

“They’re _suing_ me!” Fitz repeated. “For a _million_ dollars! Can they even do that?”

“Well,” Elena chimed in from the door to the kitchen. “You did sign a contract, right?”

Mack was only half-listening as he skimmed, trying to make sense of the legalese. 

“Actually, Turbo, this isn’t that bad.”

Fitz turned to him, incredulous. “Mack! A million dollars!”

“Did you only read the first part?”

Fitz was silent for a moment, then held his hand out. “What does it say?”

Mack stepped closer, turning the documents so they both could see them.

“If you agree to do the last episode – Skye ‘goes home’ with the finalists for dinner with family or friends – ”

“Dios mío, we’re going to be on television?”

“And the final Key ceremony,” Mack added, ignoring Elena, “then they’ll drop the suit.”

“But – ”

“And look: whoever Skye picks for the winner, if he proposes in the final episode, he _wins_ a million dollars!”

Fitz scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I hope Trip enjoys it, but…ugh.”

“Fitz, you have to do it.” 

Mack watched him as he looked at Elena. She nodded in agreement. Fitz sighed. 

“Call them tomorrow,” Mack instructed. “Come eat with us now.”

Fitz moaned a bit as he stepped forward, shuffling his feet. When he reached Elena, she put an arm around his shoulders, guiding him towards the table.

“It won’t be that bad,” she comforted him. “We’ll be there at the dinner.”

**

“They’re here!” Elena shouted as she peeked between the curtains.

They were filming the dinner at their house – it was bigger for the cameras to maneuver, and it looked like an actual residence compared to Fitz’s place. Part of him actually wondered how Skye would react if she came to his and saw the bits and pieces of tech lying everywhere, his only piece of art (a poster of space taped to the wall), and a blanket his mum had knitted draped over the couch he got from a secondhand shop. She probably would be grateful she dodged a bullet. 

Next to him, Mack was unusually stiff and uncomfortable. Fitz smiled at him. 

“You get used to the cameras eventually.”

“Really?”

“No,” Fitz admitted. “Just try to act normal.”

The doorbell rang. Fitz sighed, standing up to go answer it. “Showtime,” he muttered. 

He opened the door wide, doing his best to ignore the lights and cameras. Skye stood on the stoop, smiling widely, as if she were actually happy to see him. 

“Hi!” she exclaimed, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Or chokehold. “Neither of us want to do this,” she hissed in his ear, “but legal’s got us both trapped, so let’s just get it over with.” 

Fitz just barely nodded once, and she released him with a peck to his cheek. 

“Come in,” he said, “let me take your coat.”

She slipped it off her shoulders, letting him catch it before it fell to the floor. Fitz twisted to hang it up on the nearest hook, as Skye turned her attention to Mack and Elena.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you. Fitz told me a lot about both of you.”

Mack was silent, with a deer-in-the-headlights expression that Fitz would tease him for later. But Elena stepped up to fill the gap. She reached out to shake Skye’s hand, holding it as she led Skye towards the kitchen.

“Nice to meet you, Skye,” Elena said. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished!”

Once they were all seated and the crew determined the best angles for the cameras, they began distributing the dishes. Fitz had to kick Mack under the table before he noticed a plate being passed to him, but it could be worse. 

“How about some wine?” Elena asked, holding out the bottle. 

“God, yes,” Fitz and Skye both muttered. They made eye contact quickly, then looked away. 

“So, Elena,” Skye asked. “Tell me what I need to know about Fitz from before I met him. Was he a heartbreaker?”

Elena laughed, a bit too much, if you asked Fitz, and shook her head. “I was always setting him up with my friends, but no one was ever good enough for him. Then the show came along.”

Skye turned to Fitz. He gave her a lot of credit, actually. You had to look carefully to see how forced her smile was. “Is that true, Fitz?”

He shrugged. “They were all lovely.”

“Just not the one?”

He chose not to answer. Instead, he blinked at her impassively. Let them edit around it if they had to. They obviously had lots of experience with that. 

“Before you came to the show and met…anyone, what were you looking for in a woman?”

Fitz thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess, someone…kind. Smart. Who makes me laugh. Someone who’s determined. A good friend.”

“And am I any of those things?”

“Sure,” Fitz agreed sincerely. “But there are other things I like about you. You’re confident. You know what you want, and you’re not afraid to say it. You work hard. All of that’s…completely true.”

Skye gave him a smile that seemed more genuine than previous ones that night. Then, she focused her charm on Mack, finally getting him to relax and speak.

Eventually, the director called cut, and everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief. The camera crew packed up, leaving first, and then Fitz walked Skye to the door.

“See you in about a week,” Skye said. “Final Key ceremony.”

“Can’t wait,” Fitz replied, deadpan.

She gave him a knowing look and left.

**

Fitz helped the others clean up, then went home. He was exhausted. He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, leaning back against it with a sigh. He reached up to loosen his tie, wondering if he should grab a beer or just go straight to bed.

Then, there was a knock on the door behind him. Fitz whimpered. What the hell now? And at this hour? 

He pushed off it, turning around to pull it open. Then he froze.

“Jemma.”

“Hi,” she greeted him, her voice unsteady and completely lacking even the false exuberance Skye’s had earlier, as if she were uncertain that he wanted to see her. “So, I…got on a big machine that flew through the air. And a couple hours later, it landed here. And I thought I’d come say hi.”

He tried to remember all the reasons their situation was too… But all of that was easy enough to convince himself of when he saw her number on his mobile screen, and a lot harder when she was standing across from him with a hopeful yet nervous expression. All Fitz knew was that he missed her, especially after the last few hours of play-acting called up all his memories of her and their relationship. If he salvaged nothing out of the whole experience, _of course_ he wanted it to be a future with Jemma.

“You just missed a great dinner with Skye and a half-dozen cameras,” he told her.

Her brow furrowed and her mouth dropped open questioningly.

He shook his head. “I’ll explain later. How long are you here?”

She exhaled sharply, beginning to relax. “As long as I’m welcome,” she replied leadingly.

After a beat, Fitz stepped closer, grabbed her elbow to guide her inside, then closed the door. He leaned against it, one hand nervously fiddling with the knob.

“Any plans?” he asked.

She smiled. “None yet.”


	7. Chapter 7

Fitz kicked open the door to the bedroom, then maneuvered Jemma inside, and nudged it closed again. Jemma, meanwhile, was pretty single-minded, kissing him everywhere her lips could reach, and trying to unbutton his shirt. They spun in a circle, very ineffectively moving towards the bed, bumping into a dresser and knocking something to the floor.

“Oh, sor – ” Jemma mumbled against his lips.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fitz cut her off, lifting his hands to bury them in her hair. 

Jemma toed one shoe off and then the other, dropping a whole inch in the process and making Fitz suck on her nose instead of kissing her. He laughed, before moving to the side to kiss her jaw and then down to suck at the notch of her throat and then up to return to her mouth. 

Even though she was distracted several times by running her hands over his torso and arms, his shirt was finally unbuttoned. Fitz tore it off, almost getting his wrists stuck in the process. He flapped his arms hard and fast to get it off, then moved his hands to Jemma’s waist, blindly trying to unfasten her trousers. He almost had it, but then she sat quickly and pulled him onto the mattress with her. 

“God, yes,” she whispered, as they stretched out on the bed. “At last.” 

Oddly, it was that statement that made Fitz pause, rather than urge him on. He pulled back, turning their kiss slower and more intimate. Jemma reached a hand down towards his cock, but he caught it, intertwining their fingers and holding their hands out to the side, pressing them into the mattress. Jemma lifted her head from the pillow, trying to kiss him deeper, but Fitz broke it off entirely.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Fitz replied, looking into her eyes as he let go of her hand, reaching instead to touch his thumb to her lower lip. He smiled when she puckered and kissed it. “And that’s what’s so great,” he continued. “We don’t have to rush or hide. So, I’m gonna take my time making love to you.”

“Oh.” Her smile grew wider.

“Is that OK with you?”

“Very much so.”

So, he did, first by finally removing her clothes. At the sight of her knickers, he chuckled. 

“Awww.”

“Hmm?” she asked knowingly, even as she lightly scratched her nails behind his ear. 

Making eye contact, Fitz grinned. “I anatomically-correct-heart U, too,” he said. 

Before she could respond, Fitz tugged them down, revealing her lower body. He groaned in anticipation, then kissed his way up. He stopped at her cleavage, pressing his lips against the rise of each breast even as he squeezed his hands beneath her and unhooked her bra. The fabric slackened, and Jemma moved to pull it off. For the first time, she lay before him, fully naked. Fitz swallowed, taking in the sight of her body. 

“You’re easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmured. 

Jemma smiled at the compliment, even as she reached for the zip of his trousers again. This time he let her, shifting to one elbow so they could push his clothes off together. 

“Please tell me you have a condom,” she begged. 

Fitz nodded, already starting to crawl towards the bedside table.

“I bought a whole box the other day.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“You’re not going to tease me about that?” 

“Later,” she promised. “Just put one on already.”

Fitz grinned, followed her instructions, and then, a short time later, slid inside her. Neither of them moved for a second, savoring the feel as they joined together. But the desire to take it slow could only last so long, and soon, the deep, measured thrusts turned to sharp, quick ones. Ragged breaths broke across each other’s lips as they kissed messily. Jemma’s moans filled the room and sounded loud in his ears, even above the whooshing beat of his heart. With a sharp cry, she came, trembling in his arms and prompting his own climax. 

It took another condom and more than an hour before Fitz finally started to believe she was there for real. Maybe even to stay. He turned to his side, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing at her as she stretched out on her stomach on what he already considered to be her side of the bed.

“Hmm?” Jemma asked, not even opening her eyes. 

Fitz smiled, curiously tracing his fingers along the faded, healed scar down the length of her back. “What’s this?”

“Scoliosis surgery. When I was 13.”

He leaned forward to kiss it. “You’re amazingly resilient,” he told her, before tracing his tongue down the scar’s length. 

When he reached the bottom, he backed away just enough to allow Jemma to turn over. She glanced down at his crotch.

“You’re amazingly resilient too,” she informed him, deadpan.

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Good thing you bought a whole box of condoms, Mr. Optimism, when you wouldn’t even take my calls.”

Fitz sighed. 

“It’s later now,” she said with a grin.

“You wanna tease me or you wanna use another one of those condoms?”

“I kind of want to tease you.”

Fitz peppered her with kisses as she laughed. He thought his heart was going to burst with happiness.

**

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Fitz said, as he led Jemma into the garage.

“Thought I’d check to see how you were after last night,” she heard a woman say.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” added a man.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m late,” Fitz responded. Jemma finally came into view of the others. They stared at her, making her feel self-conscious, but Fitz just reached out to take her hand in support. “This is Jemma.”

Jemma waved an awkward hello.

“She showed up last night,” Fitz said, grinning at her before looking at the others again. “So, to answer your question, Elena, I’m great.”

Jemma blushed deeply at the intimation, but they let it go as they warmly greeted her. Elena reached her first, pulling her into a hug and speaking rapid-fire Spanish that Jemma had no hope of understanding. It sounded positive, though. Mack was right behind Elena, and shook Jemma’s hand before enfolding her in a giant bear hug. 

“Anyway,” Fitz continued, “I’m going to take the day off to show Jemma around, but we’ll buy you dinner if you’re free.”

They all agreed, and Fitz stepped away just for a moment to grab the keys to one of the loaner cars that was their other reason for coming – a vehicle that would work much better for touring the city than Fitz’s old clunker. Jemma fidgeted slightly as she waited for him to return. Mack and Elena stood side by side, staring at her and smiling broadly. Maybe too broadly, she worried.

Jemma inhaled and began to speak. “I know I’m not what you wanted for him when you sent the audition tape but – ”

“Yes, you are,” Elena interrupted. Mack and Elena made eye contact quickly, then focused on Jemma again. “We wanted him to find someone to be happy with and he did.”

“You two seem perfect for each other.”

Jemma relaxed, smiling just as widely as they were.

**

“It’s a beautiful campus,” Jemma noted, tilting her head to see out the window.

Fitz hummed in acknowledgment. “It’s a smaller school, but it has great resources. I’ve been looking at their course offerings for next semester. Might take one.”

“That’s great, Fitz,” Jemma replied, facing him again and reaching out to briefly squeeze his arm in excitement.

“They, uh, they have a pretty good biochem department too.” 

Jemma felt her heart start to thump from the implications of his clearly anxious tone. She _had_ been putting off thinking about what she was going to do next… She looked out the window again, in an attempt to hide how thrilling she found the whole conversation. 

“Do they?” she asked, rather breathlessly.

She sensed Fitz glance at her, but he didn’t speak, not for a few more minutes. Then, he changed the subject entirely. 

“So, I thought tomorrow, we could go to the children’s science museum just out of town. It’s a little juvenile, obviously, but it could be fun.” 

“Sounds wonderful.”

It _was_ wonderful. Jemma didn’t know what she enjoyed more: Fitz’s expressions at anything involving goopy material, testing out a hands-on exhibit about telecommunications by sending increasingly unsubtle innuendo back and forth, watching the children’s eyes light up as they were exposed to the marvels of science, or shrieking with laughter as they both nearly got stuck as they made their way through the kid-sized pathways in the oversized model of the digestive system. 

Perhaps the highlight was the planetarium at the end. They held hands and Jemma rested her head on Fitz’s shoulder as they watched the stars on the ceiling above. 

“I used to want to go to space,” she whispered. “Just imagine how awe-inspiring it must be.”

Fitz shrugged. “Who needs space? I’ve got something magnificent right here.”

She tilted her head to look at him, but couldn’t see much in the darkness. She sensed he was facing her, though, and took a chance. Leaning up, she found his mouth, and in a moment of perfect timing, a shooting star crossed above them as they kissed.

**

Jemma watched, half-aroused and half-curious, as the version of her on the small television screen in Fitz’s bedroom rode him faster and faster, one hand pushing against the wall for balance, until she ultimately shouted out her climax.

“Is that really what I look like when I orgasm?” she wondered.

“Mmm,” Fitz replied, his soft hum sounding loud in her ear, given his proximity. He tightened his arms around her. “It’s pretty hot.”

Jemma turned her head to catch him in her peripheral vision. “Well, you certainly had no problem performing with a camera on you this time,” she said slyly, enjoying the blush that rose on his cheeks at the statement.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

Jemma didn’t respond, but she didn’t buy his complaint either. Definitely a case of protesting too much. If anything, the half-hard bulge pressing into her back indicated he’d be ready for take two soon.

On the screen, the Fitz of the past flipped them over, positioning himself in the V of Jemma’s thighs even as he pinned both her arms above her head. He moved inside her slowly, and Jemma could still feel the frustrated desire for him to just let go and take her. But Fitz, ever the romantic, had maintained his languid pace, holding eye contact with her.

She watched the movement of his arse, the way his muscles clenched as he fucked her deeply, over and over again. She hadn’t been able to fondle it then, so she did now, or tried to anyway, almost absent-mindedly sliding her palm high up and around his bare thigh and squeezing. His cock grew harder and she gave into the urge to shift herself up and back so her lumbar and the swell of her bum rubbed against him. Fitz bent down, sucking an open-mouthed kiss onto the sensitive curve of her neck and shoulder, and then he exhaled a shuddering breath. 

She focused on the telly again, where she could see his mouth moving, but the camera didn’t pick up his words. So, Jemma’s memory supplied the things he had said, each statement punctuated with a kiss, soft and tender or deep and passionate or quick and playful. She recalled the huskiness of his voice as he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she was, how lucky he was to have met her.

How much he loved her.

Not that she put that much stock into things said mid-coitus like that, but it was still nice to hear. Maybe they would say it for real soon. At the time, Jemma had responded predictably, tightening around him enough to make him grunt in pleasure. She had kissed him too, smiling against his mouth as his thrusts finally turned hard and fast with the race toward orgasm. 

“We should probably delete this,” Fitz said, startling Jemma back into the present.

“No!” Jemma protested. “I need something to remind me you want me later this week when you’re trying to win Skye’s hand in marriage.”

Fitz lifted a hand to her cheek, turning her to face him.

“It’s just pretend.”

“I know.”

“It’s just for a day or two, then I’m starting a life with you.”

Jemma smiled. “I can’t wait.”

She faced forward again, focusing on the screen, where they were both relaxing after coming. Jemma watched as she held her palm against his forehead before smoothing his hair back. Video Fitz responded by leaning closer to kiss her.

“What if she picks you?” Jemma blurted, finally voicing her fear.

“Oh, forget it, then. I’m absolutely taking the million bucks and marrying the international celebrity.”

“Fitz, I’m serious.”

He sobered. “She’s not going to pick me after all this.”

“She might, just to get back at me.”

“She’s your best friend.”

“She fired me though, didn’t she?”

They were both silent. Finally, Fitz spoke again. “Well…if she picks me, I’ll say no.”

“No!”

“ _No?!_ ”

“You can’t turn her down on national television. She’ll be a laughingstock and this whole thing will have been for naught.”

“You want me to say _yes_?”

“No, I don’t _want_ it.” Jemma sighed. “But…take a couple paparazzi pics and break up with her a reasonable time later.” 

Fitz hesitated, then shrugged. His next response was back to teasing again, maybe as a way to avoid thinking about the worst-case scenario. 

“The million dollars would be pretty nice. Don’t know if I can keep you in bonbons and champagne on just my mechanic wages. And you’re unemployed, so.”

“Eh,” Jemma replied, following his lead. “Ten percent of Daisy’s earnings over the last decade has given me a substantial nest egg.”

“Ooh, then you can keep _me_ in bonbons and champagne.”

Jemma laughed, twisting around to kiss him. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” she murmured, taking a chance.

“I know,” Fitz replied solemnly. “You told me with your underwear.”

Jemma faced forward again, crossing her arms in mock anger. She pouted for good measure, and Fitz laughed. 

“I love you,” he said in her ear, making her shiver. 

She turned to face him fully, climbing onto her knees so she could straddle him. Definitely time for take two.

**

Jemma stared out the window, but she didn’t see much beyond the wing of the plane. Even then, she wasn’t really focusing. She was mostly just remembering back over the last few days with Fitz. They had been almost like a fairy tale, and a nice little escape, and as much as she knew she needed to talk with Daisy eventually, she wasn’t quite ready to return to the real world. But she didn’t have much of a choice – here they were, flying back so Fitz could do the last bit of the show and Jemma could handle some business. Then, they’d work on figuring out the next stages for them.

Jemma turned away from the window, facing Fitz. She opened her mouth to suggest that he stay with her a few days after the show wrapped up. It was only fair for him to see the spaces and places of her life, after all, when she had been made more than welcome in his. 

“Oh my God!” a young teen girl, currently walking past on her way to her own seat, exclaimed. “Aren’t you Fitz?”

They both looked up at her, startled that she recognized him and even more so by the loud announcement. 

“Uh, yes,” Fitz said.

“I love you! I vote for you every week!”

“Come on, sweetie, keep moving. Sorry,” said the woman behind her. 

Fitz and Jemma both nodded awkwardly.

“Wait – who are you?” the girl asked, twisting to look back at Jemma. “Why aren’t you at the mansion, Fitz?” 

She kept asking questions until she was out of hearing range. A few other people were now staring at them, some with recognition.

“So much for keeping a low profile,” Fitz declared. 

“So much for cuddling the entire flight,” Jemma added. 

And so, most of the flight, they kept their professionalism and their distance. They chatted occasionally but mostly did their own thing. Fitz sketched ideas for a new gadget that had sprung into his mind the other day – he had refused to tell Jemma the details until the prototype was finished. Jemma finally was able to start, and make it a good chunk through, one of the many books she had collected over the years. As the cabin lights dimmed, however, and people began to sleep, Jemma’s thoughts returned to the fact that this was the last she’d get Fitz to herself for a while. They wanted as much time as possible together before the show, hence the red-eye flight, but that meant Fitz would have to go straight to the mansion as soon as they landed.

Jemma glanced over her shoulder at the seats behind them. The occupants were already asleep, as was one of the two across from them, while the other worked intently on his laptop. Jemma pushed her seat back slightly – not all the way, she wasn’t an etiquette-less monster, but enough to be a pinch more comfortable. And then she pulled the thin blanket out of the seat pocket. She tore off the plastic wrap and shook it out, before spreading it over herself and a bit onto Fitz.

He glanced at her and smiled fondly. “Tired?”

“A little,” Jemma confirmed. 

He clipped his pen to his notebook, shut it, and traded it for his own blanket. 

“You don’t have to stop working,” Jemma said, even though he had responded the exact way she hoped he would. 

He shrugged, draping the blanket across his lap. It was just overlapping hers, which played into her plans perfectly. Jemma hid her smile as he reached up to flip off the light and then got settled. Then she shifted a bit closer. Not quite resting her head against him, not when people had recognized him, but it was something, at least.

And then she snuck her hand across their laps under the blankets, until her palm rested on top of his cock. Fitz jumped in surprise, turning to look at her with an aghast expression she could see even in the dim light. He managed not to make a sound, though, and also not to dislodge the blankets. They were still covered where it mattered. Jemma gave him a soft squeeze and smiled at Fitz’s muffled curse in response. 

“You can _not_ be serious,” he hissed at her.

Of course she wasn’t, but she grinned lasciviously anyway.

“No,” Fitz said firmly, although his voice wasn’t the only part of him hinting at firmness. 

She gave in easily, with a theatrical pout. “Fine. Spoilsport,” she said, while moving her hand back and out so it rested on his knee.

Fitz carefully slid his own hand under the blanket until it was lightly wrapped around her fingers.

“Uh, hold that thought for later, though,” he said, making her chuckle. 

They held hands as they dozed the rest of the trip. And while Jemma was disappointed when they had to say goodbye in public without so much as a kiss, she knew – or hoped, anyway – it was only for a short time. She watched as Fitz disappeared with the show’s driver, then headed towards the lot for her car. 

She was nearly home when she got a strange text, from May of all people.

_Come watch the filming here, so you can be there for Fitz after. You can enter through the back._

She hesitated, uncertain. What if she ran into Daisy, first of all? But…she did want to know what happened as soon as possible. If Daisy really did screw her over, she needed to be there to reassure Fitz it would all be fine in the long run. If not, she wanted to take Fitz away from there as soon as possible. If May, against all expectations, was actually supportive of them, then she’d take advantage of the offer.

Jemma took the next exit, turned around, and headed towards the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I'm concerned, you're an etiquette-less monster if you push your seat back at all. If you want half my seat space on top of yours, then you can pay for half my airfare. Don't @ me.


	8. Chapter 8

“You can wait in here,” May instructed, guiding Jemma into one of the now vacant bedrooms. 

Jemma put her purse on the bed, and glanced at the monitor that showed the foyer of the mansion. The only people on the screen at the moment were the crew, setting up lights and other equipment. An assistant draped white tulle along the banister of the staircase, while another placed a vase full of roses on a table in the corner. It was all somewhere on the border between tacky and romantic.

Jemma felt like she was going to vomit. 

She faced May again, exhaling deeply. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she wondered.

May’s expression didn’t physically change, but all the same, Jemma felt like she softened a bit. Any other person might have smiled. “Believe it or not,” May replied, her tone characteristically unemotional, “I’m a sucker for true love. Seven seasons into this damn show, I finally got a chance to see it.”

Jemma laughed once in surprise. 

“And I can’t even milk it for ratings,” May added, grumbling as she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Jemma nodded. There was the May she had gotten to know over the last few months. But her amusement couldn’t last. She turned and walked closer to the telly, feeling a growing sense of dread. She hoped it was just pessimism. Sinking slowly onto the foot of the bed, she barely even blinked, waiting for it all to begin. 

She knew, from what the lawsuit details had included, as well as what the producers had been planning before, that the day up until then had been filled with solo interviews with Daisy and the two finalists, which had just aired across the country interspersed with recaps. Now, in the final moments, they’d go live. 

Jemma clasped her hands together prayer-like, as she hoped Fitz was doing OK. 

“It’s almost over,” she whispered, desperately wanting to believe it.

Suddenly, Phil walked into the range of the camera, followed by Daisy. They both stopped on the appropriate marks on the floor. Jemma watched as Phil lifted one hand to his ear, adjusting the earpiece through which May communicated to him. Then he looked at Daisy. While Jemma couldn’t see his expression, she could see Daisy smile and nod in response.

From somewhere off-screen, Jemma heard a crew member speak. “Live in 5…4…3…”

Moments later, Phil grinned at the camera, and Daisy assumed her own expression of cheerful excitement. 

“Hard to believe all of that happened in just a few weeks, isn’t it, America?” Phil asked. “But now, we’re here at the end of it all. Instead of Skye handing out the last Key, however, we might just see an engagement ring exchanged. Skye, do you know who you’re going to pick?”

“Yes, I do, Phil,” she answered, grinning widely. 

Jemma swallowed thickly, leaning forward and trying to glean some hint of what was to come from her friend’s expression. 

“Excellent! Now, both of our finalists are upstairs in different rooms. We’ll call them down individually, and you’ll get to tell them both how you feel. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess!”

Jemma held her breath. The camera panned up the stairs, and a few moments later, Trip appeared, looking dashing in a tux.

“Oh, no,” Jemma whispered.

This was not good. If he was the winner, surely he’d come down last. 

“Oh, _no_ ,” she repeated. 

Her heart rate sped up. There was a weird whooshing sound that deafened her, and Jemma realized she physically could not move. Was she about to pass out? Was she having a panic attack? As if from a distance and under water, she half-listened to Daisy tell Trip how much she cared about him as a friend, but that she didn’t think they were right for each other. Trip was as laid-back as ever, accepting it graciously and kissing her cheek before leaving the room. 

Jemma suddenly returned to her full senses, and she gasped for breath. She reeled with nausea and dizziness. And then, when the camera focused on the top of the stairs again to reveal Fitz in a tux, Jemma buried her face in her hands, struggling not to sob. Hot tears seeped from her tightly shut eyes onto her fingers. She knew she had hurt Daisy, but she never would have thought her best friend of so many years could be cruel enough to make her watch as the love of Jemma’s life was forced to propose to her instead. On national TV. 

At the sound of Daisy’s voice, Jemma steeled herself and looked up. Daisy had reached out to take Fitz’s hands with both of hers. He stared at her, and perhaps only Jemma could tell how uncomfortable he truly was. 

“Fitz,” Daisy began. She paused, apparently for effect for viewers at home. Jemma wanted to scream. “Fitz,” she repeated, before continuing, “we’ve been through…some interesting experiences these past few months. And I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.”

Jemma’s mouth dropped open as Daisy stepped closer and pecked him on the cheek. Fitz turned his head to accept it, but seemed otherwise unable to respond. 

“So, I’m asking you,” Daisy continued, beaming at him, “will you please propose…”

Fitz seemed stunned, and Jemma closed her eyes in pain.

“To my friend, Jemma,” Daisy concluded. 

Jemma’s eyes flew open even as she jumped to her feet. She stared at the screen in shock. She wasn’t the only one unable to process what had just happened. On the monitor, Fitz blinked several times, his mouth opening and closing. 

“Yes,” he blurted. 

His response only added to Jemma’s sheer surprise. Indeed, it was probably the most shocking moment for her, yet. Did he really mean it? Did he – ?

“Everyone at home,” Daisy said, grinning as she addressed the camera directly, “I’m sure you’re all really confused. So, let me explain. Jemma is my agent, one of the show’s producers, and my BFF. All this season, when you thought Fitz and I were falling in love, you were seeing what the producers and directors and network wanted you to see. But I’m happy to say that, despite all the fancy editing and manufactured moments, romance really did blossom. Just not with me. Take a look.”

Jemma stared at the screen, watching as the picture was replaced with raw, behind the scenes footage. She saw herself and Fitz, and all the little interactions that had made her so happy and so confused as she tried to fight and ignore her developing feelings. She watched the moments that were burned clearly in her mind and moments that hadn’t even registered – just little normal daily actions and routines she and Fitz had fallen into effortlessly. 

Over the montage, Daisy’s voice continued, “At first, I was furious. But then I started to realize how perfect they were together. So, with the help of Phil, our director May, and Fitz’s friend Elena, I came up with a plan. First, I got a little sneaky to find out just what Fitz’s intentions were with my best friend. Check it out.”

On screen, Daisy and Fitz sat at Mack and Elena’s dinner table. Fitz, responding to Daisy’s question, described his dream woman.

“That is so Jemma!” Daisy crowed. 

The video now showed, among other things, a clip of Fitz and Jemma at his home the night before they flew back to L.A. They were curled up on his couch, Jemma tucked under the blanket Fitz’s mum had made, and chatting with Mack and Elena, who had clearly recorded the video. Jemma remembered her saying something about checking her messages as she held her phone up.

“And now,” Daisy said, “if I’m not mistaken, Jemma’s upstairs watching all this.”

Suddenly, Jemma saw herself on screen. She stepped back in surprise, turning to stare at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. She could hear Daisy laughing at her reaction through the television.

“You better get down there.” 

Jemma whirled to see Trip leaning against the now-open door and grinning. Jemma walked over slowly, still not quite believing it all.

“Did you know about this?” she asked Trip.

He nodded, laughing, then gave her a little push to hurry her down the hall. Jemma made her way to the stairs. She took them slowly at first, but then, when Fitz came into view and she saw him smiling up at her, she hurried the rest of the way, running into his arms. He hugged her, one hand going to the back of her head to hold her close.

“Hey Fitz,” Daisy said, “I think you have something to ask her.”

Fitz backed away, glancing at Daisy for a moment before facing Jemma again. “Will you marry me?” His voice was barely a whisper, but the mic picked it up clearly.

Jemma pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said, laughing with joy. “Yes, I will.” 

He kissed her then, and as overwhelming as it all was, Jemma could still hear Daisy speaking. 

“That’s it for _Reel Love_ this season, everyone. But ladies? Keep an eye out for audition instructions, because Trip will be back in the spring on _Second Chances_ , a new spin-off that gives the runner-up another shot at love. And it will be hosted by…me! I’m not ready for marriage yet, but I might have just found a new career in matchmaking!”

Jemma laughed, shaking her head, and then focused on Fitz. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

**

“You better go out there and wrap things up,” May pointed out.

“I think Skye did fine.”

“Nah, she forgot to mention that Fitz and Jemma will no doubt enjoy their honeymoon with the million-dollar prize.”

Phil turned to look at May. She merely sipped from her coffee cup. Phil raised a curious eyebrow. “Surely the network won’t – ”

“The paperwork just said that whoever Skye chose had to propose. It didn’t say they had to propose to _her_.”

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Not my fault the lawyers didn’t plug up all the loopholes.”

“You’re diabolical.”

She looked at him. “No, Phil. I’m the director, and I make damn good television.”

**

Jemma sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for Fitz to change out of the tux and pack up his stuff. She turned at the sound of footsteps, a smile already on her face. She grew hesitant, however, when she realized it was Daisy. With a shaky breath, she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and dropped her gaze. Daisy walked down a couple steps and then lowered to sit next to Jemma. To Jemma’s surprise, she then reached out and took her hand.

Jemma squeezed back tightly, trying to find the right words, but Daisy beat her to it. 

“I thought that you liked working with me. Who wouldn’t want to spend all day with their best friend?” she asked, with a short, painful laugh. After a moment, she continued, “But I see now it wasn’t what you wanted, and I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner. I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped.”

Jemma turned to face her. “Most of the time, it was a blast,” she said truthfully, “and I don’t regret all of it. But Daisy, you’re wrong. We’re not best friends.”

Daisy looked at her with a hurt, horrified expression. Jemma pushed on, “ _And_ we’re not boss and employee. We’re _sisters_ , and I love you, and that will never, ever change.”

With a sharp exhalation of relief, Daisy reached out and hugged her tightly. “I thought I lost you,” she said in Jemma’s ear.

“You’re never getting rid of me, Daisy,” Jemma declared through a throat choking with tears. “But I don’t want anything more to do with Skye.”

“OK!” Daisy agreed readily. “That’s fine! Just don’t make me eat haggis again.”

They both laughed and cried, refusing to let go of each other for several minutes until footsteps once again caught Jemma’s attention. She twisted, looking up at Fitz, who stared back at them curiously. He inquired at Jemma with his eyes, tilting his head back as if to ask whether he should leave and give them more time. Jemma smiled but before she could respond, Daisy noticed they were no longer alone.

She pulled back from the hug, wiping at her eyes, and stood. “OK, you two, go on and get out of here.”

“Are you sure?” Jemma asked, standing as well.

“Absolutely.”

Fitz walked closer. “Thanks, Skye,” he said, perhaps a little awkwardly, but probably the least awkwardly he’d ever communicated with her yet.

Daisy shook her head. “If you’re gonna marry my sister, you should probably start calling me Daisy.” 

At the mention of marriage, Fitz and Jemma glanced at each other, grinning almost foolishly. Then, he focused on Daisy again.

“Thanks, Daisy,” he repeated dutifully, slightly teasing. 

Daisy leaned closer, hugged them both, kissed Jemma’s cheek, then Fitz’s. And then she walked away. Jemma focused on Fitz.

“Want to get out of here?”

Fitz nodded once, emphatically. “Please.”

**

“Fitz,” Jemma began slowly, as she led him into her home after they stopped for dinner. She knew she had to say something, but she didn’t want him to think she…she didn’t want him to take it back. But she didn’t want to trap him either. She continued, “Fitz, I know you might have felt pressured, being on TV. So…I won’t – I won’t hold you to anything that – ”

He lowered his bag to the ground absent-mindedly as he stared at her. The expression on his face seemed dismayed, but she worried she might be projecting her own feelings. “Are you saying you don’t want to get married?” 

“It’s not that.” Jemma turned away, forcing a short and unconvincing laugh. “It’s just I obviously know firsthand how Daisy’s enthusiasm can steamroll people and – ”

“Jemma, I _want_ to marry you. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

The forcefulness of his statement gave her enough confidence to face him again, but as soon as she did, she had to immediately grab onto the counter for support. He was on one knee, looking up at her earnestly, and holding out a sparkling ring.

“I bought this before we even flew back here,” he explained. 

“Oh!” Jemma involuntarily reached out with what could only be called grabby hands, but caught herself before actually taking it from him. “Oh, _Fitz_. It’s beautiful.”

He seemed to struggle with what to say, perhaps wondering what her answer actually was amidst all the mixed signals. And then he stood, stepping closer to take her hand.

“But, you’re right. I know we’ve only known each other a few months and have been together even less than that. You are facing a lot of uncertainty right now, so I – I can wait. However long it takes until you’re ready, I can – ”

She surged forward, placing her hands on his cheeks and kissing him. His voice was muffled briefly and then died off as he kissed her back. 

Eventually they parted, and Jemma smiled through her threatening tears. “It might have to be a long-ish engagement,” she warned, “until I get other things figured out. But the _only_ thing I’m certain of is you.”

**

Jemma blinked her eyes slowly open, still not entirely used to the feeling of letting the sun wake her instead of an alarm. She sighed with pleasure when she registered Fitz’s arm around her and his warm body tucked in behind hers. She saw the ring on her bedside table, where she had to leave it for safekeeping shortly after putting it on. She had teased Fitz mercilessly the night before; as much as it felt like he knew her to her very soul, he had definitely guessed wrong on her ring size.

He mumbled in his sleep, pushing closer against Jemma. Her eyebrows raised at the feel of his erection, which reminded her she had teased him mercilessly about other things too in the last few days. It was somewhat surprising that, despite their engagement, the night before had been the first time all week they hadn’t made love at least once. They had just fallen into bed exhausted, as all the stress and subsequent celebration caught up with them. She really ought to make up for the lapse by finally giving him that promised hand job. Jemma smiled wickedly, wiggled her hips backwards, then reached out and up for the lotion bottle next to the ring.

She pumped out a dollop, then rolled to face him. The movement partially woke him and he snuffled a bit before realizing or remembering where and with whom he was. With a happy hum, he tried to tighten his arms around her but she held him back by smoothing her free hand down his bare chest and abs. He murmured approvingly, still trying to roll towards her. His cock was now jutting out even further, leaking through his boxers, and Jemma found her own excitement growing. 

“Push down your pants,” she instructed. 

His eyes opened and he focused on her for a moment before wordlessly complying. She rubbed her hands together to spread out and warm up the lotion, then reached down to wrap her palm around him. He groaned her name, leaned forward to kiss her, then let her have full rein. 

She began to stroke him, adjusting the tightness of her grip based on his answering moans and gasps. He rocked into her fist several times but soon, never able to accept pleasure without sharing it, his fingers reached down to the juncture of her legs. He rubbed at her clit, lightly pinching it with his knuckles, spurring on her own movements. She sidled closer, keening with pleasure as he adjusted his hand to slide two fingers inside of her even as his thumb continued to massage her clit. She increased the pace of her strokes, moving her other hand to pull softly at his balls. Both of them were breathing too roughly to even think of kissing. Instead, Jemma rested her forehead against his chest, looking down their bodies at their actions below and giggling at the feel of his puffs of air moving her hair. She thought about shifting down, taking his cock in her mouth for the first time, but even before she finished the thought, he was coming, his release spilling over her fist. The sight was exhilarating, and the spasm of his hand in response caught her in just the right spots, triggering her own climax. She pressed her cleaner hand against his chest, needing to ground herself against something as she shook with pleasure. 

They leaned into each other, both moaning, and then Jemma sighed, twisting up to kiss him. She guessed a blow job would have to wait. It could, of course. They had the rest of their lives to do everything they both wanted.

**

Feeling something like a caterpillar in a cocoon with the blanket Fitz’s mum had knitted wrapped around her, Jemma pressed submit on the final application. She had chosen several grad schools in Californian cities near good suburbs, and several near Fitz’s home including the one he had shown her earlier. They had agreed that they’d go wherever worked out best once she got acceptances back, and their combined savings and the million-dollar prize would be more than enough to keep them _quite_ comfortable in the meantime. Oh, she hoped she got accepted somewhere. It had been so long since she was in school and –

Fitz walked out of the other room, his mobile in hand and a confused look on his face. 

“Jemma?” 

“Fitz, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Just…did you know Pepper Potts is a fan of the show?”

“Pepper…as in _Tony Stark_?”

He nodded, blinking once and eyes opening wide. “She liked the inventions I described to Daisy. She’s offered me a job.”

Jemma’s mouth dropped open. After nearly a full minute of shock, she reached out for her laptop again.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to start looking for grad schools near – ”

He shook his head. “A consulting job. I’ll have to go in occasionally, but can set up shop anywhere. She said…she said she knew we wanted to…raise our kids – I can work anywhere. And we’ll _definitely_ have enough for a little cottage in Perthshire, too.”

Jemma cupped her hands around her nose and mouth, blinking rapidly against tears. And then, she reached out to pull him into a hug.

“And to think you didn’t even want to do the show.”

He laughed, still somewhat incredulous, and hugged her tighter.

**

Almost one year later, Jemma was thriving in school, and Fitz still found time to help Mack in the garage even as he proved himself invaluable to Stark Industries. In fact, after Jemma helped him out on a couple projects, they had already offered her a job once she graduated. But for that weekend, all other responsibilities had been put aside. Tony and Pepper, Hunter and Bobbi, May and Phil were all there. Mack was best man and Daisy was maid of honor in a beautiful, small ceremony as Jemma and Fitz finally said their vows.

All of the invitations had clearly stated _no cameras allowed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn’t planning another smut scene for the final chapter, actually, but I mean…I did leave Fitz kind of hanging there so…
> 
> Fun fact: When I first started planning this, I thought of having Will or someone be the bachelor instead of gender-swapping, but I found it funnier to make a nod to the fact that the show keeps introducing (frankly chemistry-less, IMO) potential or actual love interests for Daisy when really she's a better character when free of forced romances.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, I highly recommend seeking out the movie on which it’s based ( _I Want to Marry Ryan Banks/Reality of Love_ ). It has 800% less smut, since it was made for TV, but it stars a pre/early-fame Bradley Cooper, a post-fame Jason Priestley, and Anya from Buffy. So, definitely dated but still pretty awesome.


End file.
